IPS 3537 
.H94 F6 
1905 
Copy 1 



FS^5Hr37 



FOREST 
LEAVES 



POEMS BY 



WILLIAM PENN SHOCKLEY, ESQ. 



FOREST 
LEAVES 



POEMS 
BY 



WIILIAM PFNN SHOCKLEY. ESQ 



18 »y'J6 j 



; ji..j\[,;iJiii iL:iuy 

; /XJ106 






PREFACE 



This little book is launched oitt upon the great sea of pub- 
lic readers with the hope that it will meet with a favorable re- 
ception. This is the author's first attempt at interesting this 
great body of readers, being the first issue of a collection of his 
poems. Many of the poems have a local color, but only such 
as is usually universal. Kind treatment of an author's first pvab- 
lication is always appreciated. 

The sentiments and subjects dealt with are such as spring 
perennially in the human heart, and continue as long as life. 
Love, joy, hope, grief, humor, work and play largely constitute 
the round of human existence. The author has written of all 
in the truest vein possible, and fully believes that this book will 
elevate the life of any one who reads it. 

William Penn Shocklev, Esq. 
Dover, Delaware, August, 1905. 



Copyright, 1905, by 
William Penn Shocliley. 



POEMS 



PATHS. 

O brig-ht is the sun after showers, the spring after winter has 
gone; 
The cerulean tints of the heavens after grey of the dawn 
disappears; 
() lovely the bow of Cod's promise, smiling peace to the war- 
fare of heaven ; 
For the paths to the beauties of earth often lie through the 
vales of her tears. 

The sorrowing heart 'neath its burden ofi)ain feels its anguish 
disappear, 
As the answer is had from the lips of our Cxod to the 
"heart's sincere desire;" 
The puriiied soul with its surcease of sorrow knows well the 
price of joy; 
That the paths to the best things in life often lie thnnigh 
sorrow's cleansing fire. 

The paths of the sinner e'er lie through the valley of the shadow 
of death ; 
Not a gleam of the light of God's glory dispels the thick 
gloom of his sadness; 
Xor the warmth of the sunlight of mercy e'er charms that fune- 
real train, 
As it marches silently onward to end in the tomb of its 
madness. 

No hope have this train till they bury themselves in the billows 
of love. 
That break on the shores of God's kingdom with heavenly 
music rare; 
And reappear like the glorified saints when washed in the blood 
of the lamb, 
Refulgent and bright, and adorned to inhabit His palaces 
fair. 



POREST LEAVES 



The course of earth's conquerors lie e'er throug-h avenues lined 
with the dead; 
Their chargers relentlessly splashing the blood of the slater 
and slain; 
O the depth of the misery inflicted at the touch of the con- 
queror's sword; 
Though earth is the poorer for this, yet is heaven the rich- 
er in gain. 

Observe ye the dews of affection, the holiest speech of the heart; 
And, lo, the fair tears of tepentance, most beautiful vision 
of life; 
Bright gems on the portals of heaven, beloved by the God of 
our being; 
These, these, prove that heaven lies beyond the dusk shades 
of the vales of our strife. 

The way of our Lord o'er Judean hills, bearing His terrible 
cross. 
Was cruel indeed; for sharp stones pierced His feet as He 
went up the mount; 
And the weight of the cross bore Him low to the earth as His 
weariness grew, 
(rod's purpose required Him ascend and the death on the 
cross to siu-mount. 

More terrible was the full knt)wledge that He was the sacrifice 
given ; 
That the cruel tree should l)ear His form, innocent and void 
of any sin : . 
vStrong anguish bore Him low to earth many times on that hill 
storm -riven. 
For his breaking heart was the cross that preceeded the 
crown He should win. 



FOREST LEAVES. 



NASTURTIUMS. 

My nastnrtiiiin bed is laden 

With blossoms gorgeously tinted; 

The}' peeped when the spring was snowy; 
When summer was young they glinted. 

I love them because of their beauty; 

Their fragrance and bloom me invite; 
I love them because I can pluck them 

To my full heart's content and delight. 

I love them because on the morrow, 

Though I phick all their blossoms to-day 

I'll see them as beauteously arrayed 
As ever hung blossoming spray. 

"Tis some satisfaction, 1 hold, 

To a lover as pressing as I, 
To ne'er have your heart -joy stinted 

W^ith e'en a fair floral melodv. 



PERENNIALS. 

I have my garden planted long ago, 
When time and I were younger than are now; 
Somewhat old fashioned are the flowers there, 

Perennials, blooming gayly every year. 

I have another garden planted, aye 
Been planted as the years have ushered by 
My every friendship, hope, accomplishment,— 

Perennials with perfume redolent. 



FORtST LEAVES 



THE LADY OF THE MORN. 

The hour is half past five at morn ; 

No cloud flecks heaven's arch of blue, 
Save patch of rose and line of gold — 

The glory of the rose-blown dawn. 
The season of the orchard flowers 

Hath given way to that of fruit. 

The passion-pines upon the strand 

Sigh for the lady of the morn, 
St) blushful mid the wilding wood; 

The pines so lone amid the gold 
Weep for the lady of the dawn, 

The lady mid the ])assion-pines. 

The lady of the golden morn 

Wakes from her sleep beside the strand, 
So rose-flushed, wildful, passionful; 

She riseth from her silvery couch 
And walketh mid the passion-pines 

Upon an ancient, endless quest. 

The sea-winds leap from liillowed beds. 
And furrow o'er the fallow floods — 

The ancient pools of the mallard brood; 
They walk in moody pride the strand, 

The wave-plashed, sea-laved, golden floors, 
The spacious, shining, surf-swept shores. 

The ancient raven, seated long 

Amid the wild, sententious pines, 

Announces with the blithest heart 
The glories of the lady fair. 

Who lingers long, and sighs the while, 
Amid the yearnful passion-pines. 

Thy sighs so blent with passion bent 
Set strumming all the lutes of gold 

Adown the avenue of pines, 

O lady of the golden morn. 

Walking breast high amid the pines. 
At pink of dawn the golden strand. 



FOREST LEAVES 



Why sighest thou upon the way, 
O fair, sweet lady of the Hiorn, 

With heedless face, once hooded full, 
i\nd mantle streaming in thy quest? 

Art thou disconsolate for love 
Neglected, or for lover lost? 

Or sighest thou o'er beach-blown graves, 
Long requiemed by returning tides, 

And shone upon by mournful moons 
The while, since all designs of fate 

Were blent in one rich, rare design, 
To end th>- ne\-er-ending quest? 

O tell, sweet lady of the morn, 

What seekest thou amid the pines? 

vSeek'st thim the message of the winds. 

That scud with foamy throat the wa\'es; 

The reason the blithe raven sings; 

Or whelm of flood, or clutch of fire? 

May'st voyage thou the fallow flood 
Thy craft amid propitious gales; 

And wilt thy quest end only then. 

When thou dost penetrate the veil 

Beyond this transitory scene, 

Meet times and seasons face to face? 

O fair, sweet lady of the morn. 

Walking breast-high amid the pines, 

Hast thou the darkling raven taught 
To croak her fabled ancientries? 

Hast taught the pine trees' silvery lute 
To thrum so mystically sweet? 

Farewell, O mournful lady fair, 

Thy fruitless quest give end, give pause; 
From wearied walks amid the pines 

Refrain, nor suiFer thou the more; 
Adorn with rose thy pallid brow. 

And linger long amid the pines. 



FOREST LEAVES. 



NAIN. 

O'er Esdraelon's fair plains this side the sea, 
Upon whose fallow lands the cattle graze, 
The western orb shone fair in all its splendor. 
Beyond the gleaming caps of Carmel's peaks, 
The brush of heavenly art was busied o'er the scene, 
Intoning the aetherial canvas of the sky, 
Retouching without pause the splendor rare; 
Compelling unbelief to pause awhile, 
And wonder at the artist's wondrous skill. 
O'er all the cities of the plain the shadows crept 
From vantage point to hill, from hill to plain; 
And down the darkling streets of habitations fair. 
Or sullen, of man's abode, they silently swept. 
The shadow of an earthly scene fell o'er 
The dwelling place of many a hopeless man , 
And none more hopeless and despairing than 
The dwellers of the ancient city Nain. 

CHRIST co:metii. 
He conies with healing on his wings, 
At eventide, as at the morn. 
O Nain, immortal city! thou 
Didst see the Christ his works perform,— 
The healing of the sick; the dead 
Restored; the l)roken hearts bound u]); 
The scattering of the gospel seed; 
The springing blade; the opening bud; 
The fruit of all the works performed 
By Him who came the labors of 
The world to lighten; hearts to heal; 
Souls, steeped in the vain despair of 
Unbelief and non-belief, 
Raised to their proper dignity 
In Jesus Christ, their Lord, and King. 

CHRIST'.^ PURPOSE. 

Christ came to heal the sin-sick soul; 
To recreate anew the whole. 
Man may in Him renew his life, 
And ever conquer in the strife. 
Rejuvenate mortality, 
And grain an immortalitv. 



FOREST LEAVES 



IN REMEMBRANCE: WILLIAM Mc KINLEY. 

Lav. citizens! a wreath upon his bier! 
The bier where lies a martyred son of God; 

Approach with bowed heads, and do not fear 
To weep a flood of tears where angels trod. 

A goodly man was he to reconcile 
The direful ills of earth to His great will; 

Approach, and pay thy tribute, without guile, 
In coin of honor, and obedience, still. 

Let no perfidious heart approach him there, 
As did that false one while he yet did live; 

Let every true man his affection share. 
Nor hesitate, or love, or sympathy, to give. 



A TRIBUTE: THOMAS B. COURSEY. 

We hail thee, Coursey, noblest of them all! 

We hail thee patriot, crowned beyond compare 
With green old age — with manly virtue rare— 

With honor, coronet of principle. 

Though fickle fortune smile or frown on thee. 

When duty calls, nought turns thee from her course; 
Like gliding mill-stream with its moving force, 

Thy thought— thy word— thy deed continously. 

Kxample bright, of what a man can be 

Within the sphere of frail mortality. 

Thy rounded orb descending steadily, 
Serenelv burns, and glows resplendantly. 



10 FORtSTLEAVES 



THE LADY OF THE MOON. 

The robins' brood have flown away 
The time is half-past seven at eve: 
The golden, early, eastern moon, 
So golden, round, and passionful, 
Shone down the avenue of trees 
Into the southern casement door. 

So fair the lady of the moon 
Doth walk amid the siohing trees. 
So coldly sighing, passionless; 
The blissful lady of the moon 
Doth seek among the sighing trees, 
So coldly sighing, passionless. 

The poplar and the maple trees 
Sigh for the lady of the moon, 
So golden, round, and passionful; 
The poplar and the maple trees 
Embrace the ladv of the moon. 
So golden, round, and passionful. 

These are but cold returnings for 
Thy golden glances passionful, 
Sweet lady, fair lady of the moon. 
Icy kisses wake no responses, 
Icy sighings die on the breath, 
For thee, O lady of the moon. 

Canst thou not charm the passionful 

Adown the avenue of sighs? 

Is this denied thee, lady fair, 

So golden, round, and passionful? 

Is this the reason for the sighings 

Within the gloaming of the wood? 

Are thy steps nightly thus delaved 
Ir. the vain search, a useless ([uest, 
Vet happy one of love, fair one? 
Dost thou assume the hooded face 
To cover thy more pallid brow. 
As disappointment nightly grows? 



FORESTLEAVES. 11 

And wilt thou die at last of love, 
Enfolded in the shroud of night, 
Forsaken, and forsaking all, 
Sweet lady of the eastern moon. 
So golden, round, and passionful. 
Sweet lady with the golden smile? 

And wilt thou never more, O fair. 
Sweet lady of the golden moon, 
Return unto the casement door. 
To greet its panelled, opening front: 
And wilt thou never walk the lawn. 
Nor smile the golden smiles the more? 

Alas! alas! that this should be, 
O fair, sweet lady of the moon. 
That thou shouldst die for lack of love, 
So golden, round, and passionful, 
That thou shouldst die no lover found, 
Save maple and the pojilar trees. 



LUCERNE. 

Lucerne! thy life is full of promise. 
Thy charming youth of hope, 

Thine eyes are blessed sunshine, 
Thy gaze of the antelope. 

Lucerne! thy charms are varied, 
Thrice blessing every part, 

l>ut that appealing most to me 
Is thy constancy of heart. 

Thy purposes are ever pure. 
Thy gracious smiles e'er true; 

My hopes and aspirations 
Thy heart doth e'er renew. 

Howe'er sublime the works of man, 
Howe'er the mind doth soar. 

Thy constancy surpasses 

The world's aug-mented store. 



12 FORESTLEAVES. 

ADMIRAL SCHLEY. 

Schley did it, yes, Schley did it! 
He raked the Spanish both fore and aft, 
Pounded with might and main each craft, 
And gave them a terrible foretaste of hell, 
With burning shot and shrieking shell, 
In the bay of Santiago! 

Schley did it, yes, Schley did it. 

No gainsaying the fact by naval tyro, 

Can make him ought else than a hero. 

He hath put his enemies to rout and to .shame, 

And written high up on the temple of fame, 

"I am the hero of Santiaijo!"" 



EMBERS. 

"Tis night, and on the hearth the embers glow, — 

Sad relics of a happy, cheerful hour. 

When loved companions joyed the pleasant warmth 

Of bright, fantastic blaze and social mirth. 

No fatal play of wit, nor cool misunderstanding. 

Froze the pure currents of our souls' communing; 

Nor chilled the social atmosphere of home. 

How like our lives, the ruddy, glowing fire! 

How cluster round the hearth dear recollections! 

Knjoyed hath one the lighting of the fire, 

As chilly evening closed the plea.sant day, 

And high upon the dark andirons, logs 

Of seasoned oak, and yellow, resinous pine 

Were piled to give the wonted, cheerful warmth. 

With ruddy match applied to yester-night's 

Remains of charred logs and easy tinder, 

The hearth emits a plea.sant light and heat. 

Which brightly burns, then to grey ashes fall. 

How emblematic of the life of man! 

The growing blaze, the hopeful, happy youth! 

The roaring fire, manhood's activity! 

The dying coals, old age and feeble years! 

The dull, grey ashes, death and our departure! 



FORESTLEAVES. 13 



ALICE. 

The sun rose red o'er the heather, 
For Alice was married yestreen; 

All the brightness of life and the weather 
Added joy to the pleasurable scene. 

The heather was fragrant with flowers; 

Her girl heart brimmed over with pleasure; 
O such is the joy in love's bowers, — 

vSweet bliss distilled beyond measure. 

O true are the vows of a maid, 

And strong are the vows of a man; 

But pledges were better ne'er made, 
If not framed to the Christian plan. 



HORTENSE. 

Hortense! thy fair blue eyes 
Seem cold as the early morn, 

When dew on the rose bud dies 
As the chill north wind is born. 

I send thee, love, the hawthorne. 
With a spray of the wild moss-rose: 

They bear within their fragrant bourne 
The sweetest hope that blows. 

Hortense! lay them on thy breast; 

Caress them with thy hand; 
Treat not my love as jest; 

It seemeth a circling band. 

The fair young bud of love 

Opening upon the spray , 
Doth raise my hope above 

Pleasures without allay. 

O fair Hortense! Hortense! 

My love should waken thine; 
Cast th}^ cold glances hence, 

And let thv love be mine. 



14 FORESTLEAVES. 



WHEAT HARVEST IN KENT. 

There is health within the heart of him who riseth in the morn, 
While the whipporwills are calling, and the skies are cop- 
pery green, 
Who beareth in his person air of him to manor born; 

For there's hope within the breast of him who goeth forth to 
glean. 

There's a song upon the lips of him who goeth forth to reap; 

Akin and like the songs of that wise shepherd-king of old. 
There's a throb within his bosom as the horses forward sweep, 

Through the sunny days of harvest, through the sheaves of 
yellow gold. 

There is music in the clacking of the reaper in the field; 

In the whinnying of the horses, in the nistle of the wheat; 
There is music in the singing of the black men far afield. 

As they bear their golden burdens, mid the sunshine, and the 
heat. 

O the barbaric wildness of the sheaf-bearers' naive song. 

As they pour their plaintive melodies upon the listening ear: 
O the rich, tropic heart-songs of the shock builders, full and 
strong; 
They were brought from Afric's jungles by some dark skinned 
mother dear. 

Behold the careless shuffle, and the scuffle, and the will. 

Of the dark skinned harvest helpers, just from tropic solitude; 

Behold the vacant windows of a mind more vacant still; 
But an idle generation from ignoble servitude. 

As the suns of early summer pour their splendor o'er the fields. 
Ripening every prospect into sheaves of living gold. 

Up through the heart of nature goes the throb that harvests 
yields; 
And will onward go forever, as it ever hath of old. 

What bringeth forth the harvest davs in lovely, fruitful Kent? 
What fiUeth days with pleasure, and the nights with pleasant 
sleep? 
The bins of wheat, the lofts of hay, each day and hour well 
spent. 
The happy home, religion pure, the conscience of the deep. 



FORESTLEAVES. 15 

What invites one to the harvest fields these suun}^ days of June? 

Indeed, the fair bine skies, the magic clouds, the zeph3'rs soft — 
These kiss the tears away, and life and memory attune; 

These lead one to the harvest fields, and to the rolling croft. 

The morn, noon, evening, night, poetic stars, eloquent suns. 
The waxing moon, on whose soft glances love doth ever 
wait, 

The wind-harps of the piney groves, the rivers" shady runs; 
These lieckon and invite, and rich and royal their estate. 

A lovelv prospect greets his eye, who goeth forth to reap; 

The green fields and the gold, the orchards, and the tuneful 
groves, 
The hedges, lanes and country roads, the herds of cattle, sheep. 
The glassy lakes, the farmers' homes and barns, and circling 
flocks of doves. 

The acres of the waving gold, like hours in summer spent 

Beside the flowery brooks, or breaking sea, or mountain urn, 

Beguile one's soul, who's been to nature's thorough school in 
Kent; 
For these are harvest days in Kent; the season's sweet return. 



STREW HER GRAVE WITH IVY. 

O strew her grave with iv}-, lad! 

O strew her grave with green; 
She promised she'd cover thine, lad! 

She promised thee evergreen. 

This earth was not the happiest, lad! 

Her life was not serene. 
This earth was not her home, lad! 

This grey, this aged terrene. 

Her mien it was the saintliest, lad! 

That e'er beheld the stars; 
Her life was, O, the purest, lad! 

Her voice was mellowed airs. 

Cover her grave with ivy, lad! 

.She's gone at last to her home to live; 
Then drop a tear as you plant, lad! 
'Tis the least that vou can give. 



16 FORESTLEAVES. 

SWEET SWANENDALE. 

Sweet Swanendale! loved Swaneudale! 

Where harebells bloom, and lilies, gay, 
Where turtles soft their loves bewail, 

And little hares their fears bewray; 

I love thee for my Mary's sake, 

Thy tinted skies, and singing streams; 

And thee, sweet vale! I'll near forsake. 
For yonder rest my fondest dreams. 

Sweet Swanendale! my Swanendale! 

Clasp gently Mary in her grave; 
Loved streams! thy sweet perfumes exhale 

Near by my Mary and her lave. 

I'll ne'er forsake thee, Mary! dear. 
Nor thee, thou lovely Swanendale! 

For on thy green I dropped the tear. 
That bound my heart to thy blest vale. 

When silently with the lone three 

Grim death calls me to his dark vale, 

My dearest, fondest wish will be 
To rest mv head in Swanendale. 



HELEN WRIGHT. 

Beautiful Helen Wright is dead; 

So fair, and cold, and passionless. 

Her spirit is spent and is gone. 

'Twas sent to give us a glimpse of heaven, 

Like roses sent for a few brief hours; 

But now she lonely lieth there, 

Bereft of all her former .self, 

Save her cold and ashen beauty. 

She liveth not, nor longer dwelleth 
In earthly temple though so fair. 
A soul as pure, a heart as true, 
A life as radiant as the sun. 



FORESTLEAVES. 17 



Hath gone to heaven's eternity 
To live in peace, and bliss, and love, 
To live among the angels there, 
Forevermore, forevermore. 

Her raven hair, and soulful eyes, 
Complexion born of the late peach. 
Her youthful bloom like the wild-rose, 
So fair and bright, stately and tall. 
Were very much more beautiful 
Than eye had ever seen before. 
The charm of every maidenly grace 
Waited upon her daily step. 

Fair Helen is lying in state; 
So quiet, peaceful, statuelike; 
Her face like chisled marble seems 
To hide the rarest soul within. 
The festoons hang with a drooping air, 
The lilies blanch with their sorrow, 
Whilst all around her sob with grief 
The many friends of childhood's hour. 

Her fair, chaste soul, like a sweet breath 
Of summer wind, paused en voyage; 
Though it lingers on earth but one 
Brief day its influence never dies. 
Like the breath that comes to tint the rose, 
That buds upon the waving spray. 
So Helen came with her spirit rare. 
To make this world more beautiful. 



IN THE SHADOW OF THE CROSS. 

I am \vaiting in the shadow of the cross; 

Waiting for the blessings of my L,ord; 
Rejoicing that His promises are true; 

Thev are written in the book of Jesus' word. 



1« FORESTLEAVES. 



I am wakeful in the shadow of the cross; 

Wakeful for the comings of my Lord; 
It may be at twilight, it may be at noon, 

It may be while I'm thinking on His word. 

I am dwelling in the shadow of the cross; 

His altars are my habitations firm; 
His mighty arms support me all the day. 

And I lean upon His everlasting form. 

I am weeping in the shadow of the cross; 

Weeping for my Saviour slain on high; 
I am weeping o'er the joy of sins removed; 

Thus passeth all the shadow of my cross. 

I am watching in the shadow of the cross; 

Watching for the time of His return; 
Peter, James and John slept at the night watch, 

But I am watching for my blessed Lord's return. 

I am praying in the shadow of the cross; 

The cross on which my blessed Saviour hung; 
I am praying to be like Him all the while. 

To bear the anguish which my soul hath wrung. 

I am hopeful in the shadow of the cross, 
For I behold the end of earthly woe; 

The heart-burnings and the anguish of the soul 
Depart as He looks on us below. 

I am trustful in the shadow of the cross; 

Trustful till my blessed Lord doth take me home, 
Trustful for the blessings He hath promised. 

Fulfilment of the joys that are to come. 

I am dying in the shadow of the cross; 

Dying for my blessed Saviour's love; 
Dying to be like Him as He suffered, 

Hanging on the cruel cross above. 

I am resting in the shadow of the cross; 

Resting on His promises divine; 
Trusting all the sacred words of old. 

Partaking of tlie holy bread and wine. 



FOREST LEAVES 



19 



THE CHRISTIAN. 

Red peers the rising sun oer fen and moor; 

It leaps the sky as deer from crag to crag, 
And beareth in its train our hopes forever more; 

The strength that ne'er permits our spirits flag. 

The morning of our days is fair with hope; 

The young heart throbs unconscious of the might, 
And powers that ever seeks to drag it down. 

It faints not in the strife of just and right. 

The l)attle's on, the victory's to be won. 

He needs to put his truest armor on; 
The shocks of strife will break the firmest heart, 

Whose trust is in its single strength alone. 

The most inspiring scene in human life 

Is of a noble mind undaunted still, 
Though all the powers of hades rage around, 
. And seek to break that perfect, mighty will. 
Heaven bless the man, whose hope is set on Thee, 

Almighty God. the Author of the world! 
Whose cry amid the changing scenes of life 

Is for Thy help amid the battle's strife. 



THE CENSER OF THE WEST SWINGS 
LOW TO EARTH. 

The censer of the west swings low to earth: 
The heavenly cathedral blazeth brightly. 
Resplendent with the lamps of glorious night: 
The priest his footsteps plants on land and sea: 
The splendor of the heavenly symphonies 
Reveals the glorious touch that gives them birth. 
The eternal book its ample page unfolds; 
The heart of man subdued boweth low, 
And saints assemble round the altar's glow. 
Sweet streams of mercy flow their constant ways. 
And lave the feet of supplicating days, 
Whilst (Uxl His sceptered sway continuously holds. 



20 FORESTLEAVES. 

A SONG OF JIM. 

Immortal Jim, dear, genial fellow, 

I'll sing thy charms, rich, rare, and mellow! 

Oft is the time I turn to thee 

When sadness glooms and pleasures flee. 

Many the heartfelt joys arise 

Within my breast in happy guise. 

Thinking of thee, with all thy charms. 

Thy beauty, grace, and love's alarms. 

The lovely morn breathes but for thee, 

And evening kisses gives as free; 

The red-wine drawn by Hebe fair 

Gurgles her song for thee so rare. 

Oft at the way-side's sheltered inn, 

When wintry storms drive one within, 

We've sat beside the ingle nook, 

And cried, while every rafter shook, 

"Pile high with wood the blazing hearth, 

We'll drive the howling storm to earth; 

Bring forth the grape, away dull care, — 

Forget the past — the present share!" 

Tis not for him who sits unknown. 

And broods o'er anxious care alone. 

To gain the happy prize of life; 

Nor him who dwells mid human strife. 

Who heaps up gold and calls it gain. 

And on contentment casts disdain: 

He gains it but to lose it all, 

And sinks himself with its curst fall, 

Thinking that man's delight below 

Consists of acres, and heart's woe: 

But sadly the}- mistaken are. 

Whose hearts the loves of earth ensnare, 

Beyond a goodly competence. 

To keep together flesh and sense. 

Enjoy in social intercourse 

The heart of man, nor it accurse; 

Men are not all bad, every one 

Possesseth some good trait, alone 

'Tis worth the while to cultivate 

Acquaintance and to emulate. 



FORESTLEAVES. 21 



Some seek for pleasures but to drink 

The thickening dregs midst chiming clink, 

But we, dear Jim, will quaff the cup 

To bury self, and lovely sup 

'Neath friendship's lovely, sheltering bowers, 

And spread our hearts in occasional hours. 

These are the times when sweetly rest 

The tides of feeling in each breast 

When soul communeth close with soul. 

And self restraint aside doth roll; 

When hearts are guileless, innocent. 

And bristle not with vain intent; 

'Tis then, dear Jim, 1 best enjoy 

The holy hours of friendship, coy. 



THE PLOUGHMAN. 

Genial Tom, the ploughman ga}-, 
Afield his team doth drive. 

And sings "gee ho!" the live-long day, 
And doth the soil revive. 

He gayly turns the smoking soil 
With team and shining plow. 

And laughing drops the sweat of toil 
Upon the furrow's brow. 

He rises with the dewy lark. 
And breaks his fast on pone, 

Then laughs at dying winter, stark, 
And bows to morning's throne. 

His genial, homely, ringing laugh 
Sounds o'er his threshold bright. 
As April showers the meadows quaff. 
And lovely flowers invite. 

He feeds his team six ears of corn. 

And lifts an extra fork.; 
Then leads them out beneath the thorn 

To srear them for their work. 



22 FORESTLEAVES. 



Their ringing shoes, as o'er the fields 
They hasten to their work, 

Do brash the dew from off the shields, 
That in the meadows hirk. 

He loves to hear the little bird. 
That builds within the thorn, 

Sing out the happy, springtime word 
To the happy, golden morn. 

He turns the fragrant, rolling soil 

From morning until eve. 
And wearied with his honest toil 

His roof doth glad pei-ceive. 

Within his cheerful wife the meal 

Doth quieth^ prepare, 
And watch till dark'ning shades reveal 

Her husband, ruddy, fair. 

And when the simple meal is o'er, 
They turn their hearts to God, 

And o'er His richest pages pore, 
And o'er the press He trod. 

Then wearied with the toils of life, 

Retiring to his bed. 
He sleeps the sleep, that honest strife 

Doth o'er him sweetlv shed. 



PEACH BLOSSOMS. 

I have a spray of the daintiest pink: 
'Twas taken from my lady's cheek, I think, 
So delicately and divinely wrought, — 

Peach blossoms from the snowy zephyrs caught. 

I have another spray where a wild bee sips; 
'Twas taken surely from my lady's lips, 
So sweetly and deliciously perfumed, — 

Apple blossoms, that have heaven's breath consumed. 



FORESTLEAVES. 23 

NATURE'S VOICES. 

Go search the wild paths nature iiiaketh 

For marvels of God's handiwork; 
Go visit fields where summer shaketh 

Her rare bouquets, where treasures lurk. 
Ere shun the beaten paths of man; 

No sweet communion they afford; 
They stifle dream-songs in the van, 

And prove to spirit-life a sword. 

The grassy meads, with verdure waving. 

Provoke respon.sive spirit chords; 
The shimmering pool, fair flowers laving, 

Heart-songs of rare.st charms affords; 
Heart-songs and spirit-voices singing 

Are far the fairest flowers of earth; 
To stony hearts are ne'er found clinging, 

Nor blooming round the rock's chill girth. 

Go search the lanes, fair nature's ways, 

Inspiriting the heaven's breath; 
Disporting in her rare displays, 

The soul leaps forth defying death; 
As the breeze disports upon the waters. 

The lark upon her tireless wing, 
So nature searcheth the heart's quarters 

For all affection there abiding. 

Hope springs aloft on joyful wing, 

Loosed with the touch of nature's wand; 
And like the lark with voice e'er ringing 

Ascends to heaven's portals grand. 
To sing in perfect uni&on 

With nature's purest harmonies. 
The jangling bells of earth, O shun; 

Thy heart attune to spirit littanies. 

Go spend thy days about the altars 

Of nature's wonderful creations; 
There worship in thy noblest moods, 

Offer sincerest supplications. 
O, findest thou the Druid piles. 

Simply wrought and consecrated 



24 FORESTLEAVES. 

To the true God and vSpirit one; 

There worship thou thy God translated. 

There Ijreathest round those simple piles 

The simpler spirits of the hills, 
Who recognize the truth of truths 

In what He does, and what He wills; 
Adoring him in wonder thou 

Wilt spend thy few remaining years; 
Sweet nature's child, born in his likeness, 

And consecrate this vale of tears. 

For without Him this vale of vales 

Doth truly flow for you with tears; 
Perennial fountains, never failing, 

Of bliss, or .sorrow stricken years. 
No heathen worship offerest thou. 

Nor sacrifice with stupid rites; 
The God of high intelligence, 

Simplicity with love requites. 



CATHERINE BEACH. 

O, Catherine Beach! my sad heart is breaking 

For thee in thy fullness of beauty divine! 
Ah, what! art thou errant? thou orb of my waking! 

O depart, thou foul spectre, to death I'll resign! 

Thou song of my life! My sweet moments of bliss! 

Thou spirit of love! Thou sweet grandeur of light! 
O me, thine own lover, from thy heart ne'er dismiss, 

For my sad heart is breaking, is breaking to-night. 

O Catherine, Catherine, image divine! 

Art thou gone, ne'er to return? My sad heart is waiting! 
Sweet vision of heaven! O pause to refine 

The rich ore of love, that for thee is awaiting. 

Thine eyes and thy tresses, O Catherine Beach! 

Have set my heart Intrning both night and the day. 
Thy zone-girdled waist, and thy silvery speech. 

Are the chiefest that hard did mv sad heart bewrav. 



FORESTLEAVES. 25 



Th}^ turbulent breast, and th}^ full rounded throat, 
Th_v forehead so perfect, thy cheeks of full peach, 

Thy lips and thy grace did likewise promote 

My full love for thee, my sweet Catherine Beach! 

Be still, dear mine heart! hark! what! angels of light! 

What! whisperings of love with this crudest breach! 
Ah! those phantoms of brightness, those visions of white, 

Are love's sweetest memories of Catherine Beach! 



TEARS. 

"O father, I had a dream last night, 

And Christ in his glory appeared to me." 

"O tell me, my child, the wonderful sight, 
That appeared in thy dreams to thee." 

"Last night whilst slumbers enfolded* me, 

The Christ wilh his hosts spake questions unto me." 

"O tell me, my child, what questions spake 
The increated Son of God to thee." 

"Then Christ spake thus, "Tell, prithee child, 
The thing I hold in heaven most dear.' " 

"O wond'rous word, profound, my child. 
What answer didst thou fain give ear?" 

"O father, tremblingly I spake 

In presence of that mighty one." 
"O tremblingly indeed thou spakest, 

My child, in presence of the holy one." 

"O father, I spake of love, of love divine. 

And falteringly I uttered it in fear." 
"O presence divine, most holy one, 

O child, most dear, how came the answer?" 

"The great Christ spake, and his hosts were silent; 

Ouoth he, 'The tear of repentance, I hold most dear; 
The fairest jewel in the throne of heaven 

Is the pearl of a repentant 's tear.' " 



2b hORESTLEAVES 



ON THE MARSHES OF OLD KENT. 

There's a stir among the cattails on the marshes of fair Kent; 

There's a hanking in the breezes growing louder every day; 
Then burnish up your guns, boys, for the ducks, I'm confident, 

Ere long will feed among the ponds beside the moon-lit bay. 

There'll be sport upon the marshes at the ruddy close of day; 

There'll be shooting in the rushes at the dewy break of morn; 
For the breezes bring the honkings of the ducks and geese at 
play, 

Far along the dark horizon while the day is being born. 

There'll be joy among the gunners now in town and country 
round; 
There'll be slaughter on the marshes as the days go flitting by; 
Then buckle on your boots, boys, and harken to the sound. 
Of the honkings of the wild fowl as they southward scream- 
ing fly. 

O, be up before the break of day, ye country lads and town. 
While the dew is on the shocks of corn and birds are in the 
meads; 

For ye must rise up early, if ye wish to gain renown, 

A-shooting ducks and water-fowl among the marshy reeds. 

There'll be shooting on the marshes of our fair and smiling 
Kent, 

For I hear it in the breezes, and I read it in the sky; 
O, the royal sport '11 be excellent ere many days are spent, 

A-shooting on the marshes of the flocks a-flitting by. 

O, the air is full of honkings, and the sky is full of birds. 

Then buckle on your gunning coat, set out the bright decoy, 

Sound aloud the honking note, allure the fowl with wary words. 
And there'll be shooting on the marshes of old Kent without 
alloy. 

O, I love the waving grasses and the secrets they enfold. 
And the broodings of the spirit of the under-world around; 

O, I love the broad expanses skirting wide the shores of old. 
For they stir within my bosom cherished feelings most pro- 
found. 

O, I love the mighty sun, enthroned aloft in gorgeous splendor, 
As it wheels from bay and ocean full attired in robes sublime: 



FORESTLEAVES. 27 

And my heart grows soft and tender as it sinks in sacred slumber, 
O'er the marshes of old Kent land in this grand and glorious 
clime. 

O, I love to hear the ocean with its varied monotone. 

Sobbing on the shores eternal of this mighty earth of ours. 

Rising, falling, gently, ever, never wearied with its moans, 
Binding hemispheres and peoples, owning neither laws nor 
powers. 

But the dark obscure philosophies, the human mind indulges. 
Suffer never gloomy spirit rise above its normal state; 

And the deep undying wisdom, that the human soul divulges. 
Serves the mind of happier thoughts forever to depopulate. 

But the spirit of the ocean as it ever sad repines, 

Although it profoundly stirs the mind to thoughts sublime. 

Has not the allurement that the lighter sport divines. 

As we linger on the marshes of this grand and glorious clime. 



SWEET MARIM SPRING. 

Sweet Marim Spring! pure, welling fount! 

Flow sweetly from thy cave. 
That this green hill may pleasure count 

To pour thy limped wave. 

Flow pure as drops from His dear side 

While hanging on the cross; 
And cheerfully as rushed the tide 

His manly breast across. 

Flow sacredly as Mary's tear. 
That welled for her dear Son, 

As to the grave on Joseph's bier 
They bore the Holy One. 

Flow lovely as the melting tear. 
That springs for loss of friend; 

And the wild flow of memories dear, 
That oft mv heart doth rend. 



28 FORESTLEAVES 



GOLDENROD! 

Hail, hail, bright harbinger of a'utumn days ! 

To these fair fields and sunny lanes more fair 
We welcome thee, thon lovely flower, as rays 

Of cheerful light along our pathway clear. 
Thou visit 'st each neglected, sun -lit lane, 

And bear'st a wealth of beauty in thy train, 
(Toldenrod ! 

Lavishly hath nature's floriculturist 

Bestrewn this smiling land with thy fair race. 

Magnificently His grand design, I wist, 
Thou art accomplishing with happy grace. 

In true perfection thou dost lovely greet 
The lovers' light, or travelers' heavy feet, 
Goldenrod ! 

How changed this scene since springtime's youthful days. 
When o'er the fields the daisy reigned supreme. 

Then the fair, modest flowers adorned the ways. 
And dainty wildings chanted love's sweet dream. 

Now the rich fruited fields are yellowed o'er 
With all that ageing year bear'st in her store, 
Goldenrod. 

Along these sunny paths in days gone by. 

Strolling we plucked the flowers in beauty clad; 

And the fair sun, that sat enthroned on high. 

Was not more fair than were the dreams we had; 

But those fond hopes on airy pinions borne 
Ha^•e of their gorgeous loveliness been shorn, 
Goldenrod ! 

P'it thou to crown the year's sublimest hour. 

To adorn Elysia's rarest, loveliest bovver; 
Fit thou to crown her grave beloved of 3'^ore, 

Whom all adored as nature's fairest flower. 
O happy flower, thou who art beauty's heir, 

September's queen, lovely beyond compare, — - 
Goldenrod ! 



FORESTLEAVES. 29 



HUMANITY'S TRAGEDY. 

"Burn the ^•eldt, destroy the land, 
Spare, nor corn, nor wheat, nor grass, 
Growing thing, nor living creature, 
Herb, nor flesh; except the woman 
And her child, but not the man, 
Old nor young; let every creature 
Know that England's might shall l^e 
Supreme in all the Boerland." 
Ouoth the cruel Sirdar bold 
To the conquering hosts of England, 
On the fire scorched veldt of Boerland, 
On dark Afric's blood stained fields. 
Where the bold Tegula river 
Ruddy ran with British blood, 
Hollanders had dwelt long time; 
They for freedom's sake left home, 
Circled half old earth's wide seas. 
Dared to brave wild beasts and men. 
Torrid climes, and sun-scorched plains. 
Now old England's aping Rome; 
Emulating e'en her evils; 
All for glory, thin veiled glory. 
This, O this, is empire's cost! 
England poured two hundred thousand 
Men or more on Afric's veldts; 
Sent her vast imperial hosts 
Out against those brave, old Dutch; 
Young and old men, stubborn, bearded, 
Who could e'en a rifle bear, 
Fought for mother, wife, and sister, 
Eand, and home, and liberty. 
Who could live for nobler purpose? 
Bleed or die for holier cause? 
Blood from proud, imperial soldier. 
Languishing 'neath tropic suns, 
And from patriots' burning veins, 
Mingling with the hot red dust; 
Weary months of hate and hell, 
Rifle crack., and shrieking shell. 



30 FORESTLEAVES. 



Proved to England's arms and despots 
That that sturdy band of Boers 
Could be vanquished, but not conquered, 
Could be slaughtered, foully murdered, 
But ne'er made to bend the neck. 
Nor their proud and stubborn spirits 
To the imperial arms of England. 
Then the Sirdar gave command, 
"Burn the veldt, destroy the land, 
Spare nor flesh, nor herb, nor dust; 
England's might shall be triumphant." 
This, O this, is empire's cost! 



THE MEADOW LARK. 

I cannot shoot the bonnie lark. 
That dwells among the meads: 

She dwells secure midst nature's park. 
And there her young ones breeds. 

Her melting songs, as o'er the heath 

She rises to the skies-. 
Do break my heart as low beneath 

I look with dropping eyes. 

It seems her note is not so glad 

As once it was in spring, 
"When she o'er fen did proudly gad 

Her younglings food to bring; 

Nor when her mate did brave the stonn, 
And lift his wings to heaven. 

To win from her songs multiform, 
With love's unbounded leaven. 

Perhaps the sadness of her mate. 
With loss of younglings flown. 

Doth render her disconsolate. 
And sadder makes her tone. 



GOD SAVE THE KING! 
Behold ve sons of men! the wondrous sight, 
Joash, the boy, crowned King of Juda's house; 
Behold the guard standing about the King, 
And all the people shouting forth their joy. 
Behold ve how they made him King that day; 
The crolden chalice with the anointing oil; 
The priests in vestments trailing long the aisle; , 
The simple ceremonials of the craft; 
And how they clap their hands and shout for joy, 

"God save the King." 

When Athaliah heard the shouts arise, 
She hastened to the temple's noblest gate, 
The temple built by Solomon the wise, 
And there beheld the object of her fate; 
For Joash stood beside the pillar there, 
\s was the custom of that Jewish tribe, 
When Kings of Israel were anointed, crowned, 
By God's high priest, the holy one of all; 
And bv his side stood princes who all cried, 
"God save the King." 

"Treason "she cried, and rent her trailing robes, 
When she beheld the manner of his crowning, 
How all the people did rejoice and shout. 
And how thev blew with trumpets loud and long 
With strong 'imperial voice she "Treason cried, 
And voiced her anger to the assembled host. 
The fate of empire wavered not that hour, ^ 
For Juda's hope lay in the new crowned King; 
And with one voice they cried aloud for joy, 
"God save the King." 

Tehoiada then straightway gave command 
Unto the captains of the hundreds there, 
"Have ye her forth without the ranges wide, 
But Slav her not within God's dwelling fair. 
And she was led the way the horses came 
Into the King's wide palace gate of yore, 
Unto the ranges, desolate and drear; 



32 FORESTLEAVES 



And there they shed her blood, and she was slain, 
The mother of the father of the King. 
"God save the King-." 

The fate of David's throne hung in the balance 
When that A'ile woman strode the temple floor 
Amid the portals of that holy house. 
This daughter of dark Jezebel fell not 
In vain that ever memorable day: 
Green may the leaves in memory's book e'er be 
Of Joash crowned, and Athaliah slain: 
For with the crowning of the righteous King 
The people raised their voice in loud acclaim, 
"God save the King." 

"God save the King," the people's sincere prayer 
Expressed spontaneoush" and by God's will. 
"God save the King" where'er a righteous one. 
In whate'er clime, o'er whate'er people rules. 
The hosts of God did Athaliah slay, 
The righteous Joash crown, and poured the oil 
Of joy on an oppressed people's head. 
Ever in truth may all such people cry, 
As did the house of David that dark day, 
"God save the King." 



THE MAINE. 

She was like a maiden 
On her wedding day. 

Going to the altar 
Lovely, hopeful, gay; 

But with sudden terror 
At the altar's steps, 

Death his pallid fingers 
Lays upon her lips. 



FOREST LEAVES. ^^ 



THE MURDER OF THE MAPLES. 

Pipe thine oaten reeds, O Pan! 

Pipe with snclden shrillness, pipe, 
For the dreadfnl creatnre, man. 

Levels thy majestic type. 

Pipe with anger, pipe with wrath, 

Pipe dread echoes through earth's caves 

Pipe the virgins from their bath. 

Pipe thy troops from woods and waves. 

Rush with pipings loud and shrill 

Through thy leafy, woodland bowers; 

Carrv fear and every ill 

Through the sunshine and the showers. 

Love of lucre filthy, vile. 

Filling hearts of all mankind, 

Leads this creature to defile 
All that's lovely and refined. 

Loud resounding thro' the wood 

Floats the desecrating tone, 
Floats the wail of blighted good, 

Floats the monarch's dyii:g moan. 

Murm'ring brooks and gurgling rills. 
Swollen with Love's maidens' tears, 

Rush as oceans o'er the hills; 
Emblems blest of soulful fears! 

Weep, ye lovely virgins! weep, 

Gather up thy mazy robes, 
And thy timid courses keep 

Toward the freer wooded globes! 

Dionesus! take thy train 

From the orgies of mankind! 

Go, Silenus! with thy brain 
Muddled by thy cups unkind; 

Go, ye people of the wood. 

Flee to singing brooks and groves; 

To withstand the man of blood, 

Thou must wayward with thy loves! 



34 FORESTLEAVES 



C^^therea dainty, sweet, 

Take thyself and daughters gay 
To thy niral, blest retreat. 

Out of man's destroying way! 

Ye may weep, ye virgin fields, 
At the shepherd's oaten strain, 

For his pipe its sweetness yields 
At Viola's cold disdain: 

Thou may'st weep, for piping swain, 
Mingling love sick ditties sweet 

With the distant woodland train, 
Quickly seeks thy rural seat! 

Psyche other pools must seek 
To admire her beauteous form, 

For the shepherd mild and meek, 
Doth the rural scenes transform. 

Doth the wooded vales destroy, 
Doth the solemn stillness steal , 

Doth the Naiads nude decoy. 
Doth the fastnesses reveal. 

Trust the swain lamenting sad. 
Nor his shrieking, oaten pipes; 

Trust the tender, weeping lad. 
Nor his lovely archetypes. 

Hasten, Pan! with pipings shrill. 
Waken fauns and satyrs wild. 

Take thee spears of daffodil 

Drive the shepherd swain and mild; 

Drive him to the river's brink. 
Drive him to the forest's edge, 

Drive him where the bobolink 
Warbles out her lover's pledge! 

Then return with dancings gay, 
Oaten reeds and ditties sweet, ' 

And like maidens long in May, 
Trip thy gay and lightsome feet; 



FORESTLEAVES. 35 



Trip to laiig-hings of the N^nnphs, 
Trip to Naiad's grace and song, 

Gather round thy crystal lymphs, 
And thy pleasures e'er prolong! 



TO A WOUNDED BIRD. 

Poor, wounded bird, thy joys are o'er, 
And ne'er to heav'n 'gain thou'lt soar; 
Some withered wretch, with nuirderous eye. 
Hast struck and left thee here to die. 

Compelled by hunger, snow and cold, 
To approach man's habitation, bold, 
Thou hopest kindness there to find, 
x^nd food, and shelter from the wind: 

But urged by sport, — curst be that word! 
A man was led to wound thee, bird! 
Thou ingrate man! curst be the part, 
Thou'st played with this, thy cruel dart. 

Thy matin song, no more will cheer, 
And happy make thy mate now drear; 
Angels will teach thee sweeter strains, 
Upon thy bed, mid storms and rains. 

Curst be the man , that laid thee low; 
Curst be the arm, that gave the blow; 
And may thy God, with direful wrath. 
Harass him on his worldly path. 

Thou cam'st to man, and thought to find 
An image of thy Maker's mind; 
But thou, alas! didst find instead 
A brute, to wickedness deep wed. 



3b FORESTLEAVES 



THE TASK— A MORTGAGE. 

Wh_v doth that man with ru^^ged mien 

Trudge to his work with downcast brow 

And anxious look, and start and fret 

At each approach of trouble slight? 

No concourse sweet of men loves he, 

Nor social dance, nor tuneful strain, 

Doth greet him with the thrilling throl); 

No joyous laughter from him peals 

Like chords from lyre of Lebos sweet 

When tuned for Polyhymnia; 

Nor like the strains of tuneful flutes. 

Which coy Euterpe and her train 

Of dancing Satyrs sweetly play. 

The charming grace of tripping nymphs. 

And gladsome charms of Aphrodite, 

With cheerful trains of Graces following 

Bear him no melody of heart. 

Perchance the iateful Lachesis 

His thread of life hath ceased to spin. 

And, waiting for dark Atropos 

To end it with her mighty shears. 

He walks with bowed head and heart. 

Haply his genius of good 

Hath bowed him low and smote his soul 

For want of prudence, care, or thought. 

A blessed man were that his pain! 

"What humor doth thy blood impair. 

Good friend! and why that fevered brow, 

That once, more suitable for Jove 

Than man, did throb with mighty force? 

And wh}^ those tottering steps and cheeks 

All hollow deep? Once was thine eye 

Fit for the countenance of Jove, 

Thy regal dignity and mien 

Possessed more power than thunderbolt 

Of heaven e'er o'er the hearts of men. 

Thine arm, the mighty spear of times 

Long gone, could once have cast with force. 

But now 'tis palsied by thy side. 

Tell whv this great affliction lives 



FORESTLEAVES. 37 



To eat thine heart, Promethian like." 

"Sweet friend, 'tis true all that thou sayest. 

My heart no meloch^ hath known. 

My mind no lightsome bounds hath taken. 

My soul no flights to Paradise 

Hath winged, since years ago when first 

A mortgage bound my soul in hell. 

My lands, my home, that once were free 

From the insidious disease 

Of debt, inoculated are. 

And leprous, it hath spread from them 

To me and mine, and now on earth 

An outcast, lying far beyond 

The city walls of Hope and Love, 

I am a stranger bound with cords 

Of adamant and linked with steel. 

Each day and hour my soul doth rest 

In hell, depressed with painful thoughts 

That quickly have transformed my peace 

And hope to vain and deep despair. 

Alas! too late! too late! alas! 

Hell hath a morts^aee on mv soul. 



SHE LOVED ME. 

She loved me, O, she loved me, 
All those golden years of youth; 

When our hearts were young and tender; 
When our hearts loved only truth . 

She loved me, O, she loved me, 
All those precious, youthful years, 

And I returned it truly. 
And her sympathetic tears. 

Over seas in white winged ships, 

Riding joyously the main, 
I did leave her not for aye. 

Hoping my return again. 



38 FORESTLEAVES 



Over distant weary lands 

I was driven to and fro; 
But my heart did e'er return 

To the scenes of long ago; 

To the scenes of youth and beauty; 

To the love so fair and sweet; 
To the happiness and pleasures; 

And the times with joys replete. 

She has gone I know not whither, 

But I love her aye for that; 
She has gone, but with another. 

But I hate her not for that. 

Not, oh not be fault of hers 

That she loved another one; 
It was only fault of mine, 

For I left her all alone. 

I remember how it grieved her 
When I told her I should go; 

How her heart was full to breaking. 
How her tears did gently flow. 

Could I keep her waiting ever, 
Spending all her youth in vain? 

I was selfish when I wanted 
Her forever thus remain. 

I should not have asked her then 
To have sacrificed her youth; 

But I should have taken her 
For my youthful bride in tnith. 

She has gone I know not whither. 

But her gain is all mj^ pain; 
She has gained, and I have lost. 

What my loss is, is her gain. 

ButT loved her, O, I loved her. 
All those golden years of yore. 

When our hearts were young and tender, 
And our love its first fruit bore. 



FORESTLEAVES. 39 



O, I'll love that dear one ever, 
And for her ni}- heart still yearns: 

But all silently I love her, 

With the joy that hope discerns. 



THE INDEPENDENT MAN. 

When daj^-dawn opes with purpling play, 
And dew-dipped flowers the gods bewraj^, 
I walk beside the blooming thorn. 
With form erect and heart new born; 
And why? 

Because the world cares not for me, 
Nor I for it! 

These clothes I'll wear though worn and few 

My life I'll live in open view; 

My simple food I'll eat for health; 

I'll do as I please with all of my wealth; 

And why? 

Because the world cares not for me, 

Nor I for it! 

Where ere I go feel still the same; 

What ere I do care not nor blame; 

This world's the place for me, I vow! 

This earth is heaven, this spot's aglow; 

And why? 

I'm independent, I! 

Because the world cares not for me, 

Nor I for it! 



40 FORESTLEAVES. 

THE GHASTLY MARINER. 

The ships that passed in the night, and in passing sailed over 
the bay, 
Rode under the waxing moon on the young flood's windward 
tide, 
With compass and rudder full firmly held, but never a helms- 
man ga}^ 
With canvas set like a spectre boat that sails to meet its bride. 
Away over the tide on the young flood the ghostly mariner 
sailed, 
In manner of old in story told, when the princess her lover 
bewail . 

Farewell thou shore of nevermore in that inland sea of old, 
Farewell thou race of mariners bold, who scorn the easeful, 
flowery plains. 
Farewell ye creeping marinettes to your clanging idols ghoul- 
ishly sold, 
I'll not return to your desert shores till the new moon fully 
wanes; 
With my ancient bride I'll scornfully ride and drink the salt 
sea's spra}--; 
I'll bolder be far than Sir Patrick Spens, who quailed on that 
wintry da}^ 

The new moon clasping the old full tightly within its arms, 
The dog star mounting the southern sky with a sickly 
gleam in its wake. 
The young flood climbing the strand with unsolved its myster- 
ious alarms. 
The unseen stir of the airy floods that oceans of water shake, 
Added full told their mystery old to the ghoulish marniers' 
shrieks. 
As the ship passed out from the harbor stout on the western, 
skyey streaks. 

lyol in the north the pole star holds its unremittaut sway, 

As the great bear takes his ponderous flight unwearied eternal- 
ly on; 
Lo! in the heart of nature old, whose mysteries ever disma}^ 
The stoutest soul that openly vaunts, finds its vaunted cour- 
age gone; , 



FORESTLEAVES. 41 



And lo! on the sea, as well on the lea, whose dominions demons 
hold. 
Quailed the wind, and the wave, and the groaning- grave, 
and the grizzled mariners bold. 

Out in the riot whence chaos of old from airy nothingness was 
evolved, 
Out in the calm where the settled broodings of a mighty 
spirit prevailed, 
L,o! the ancient spirit of that mariner bold, who o'er the sea re- 
volved, 
Haunts as of old when the human soul on its fear was ere im- 
paled; 
The ship that passed the harbor vast with its soulless- crew in 
command. 
Encountered the blast, and lo! avast! ne'er returned till the 
new moon fuUv waned. 



O STREW HER GRAVE WITH FLOWERS. 

O strew her grave with flowers, sir! 

With flowers bright with dew; 
With roses, lilies, astars, sir! 

For nothing less will do. 

Long, long ago thou wooed her, sir! 

When thou and she were young. 
You wooed and won your lady, sir! 

The greenwood bowers among. 

Short were those years of marriage, sir! 

Your portion was thrice blest; 
O happy times, compare them, sir! 

With dreams you thought your best. 

She e'er deserves your best thoughts, sir! 

Throughout your future days! 
And you should strew with flowers, sir! 

The greening sward's bright ways. 



42 FORESTLEAVES. 



NOVEMBER DAYS. 

There's, a rustle ou the mountain tops fast growing ever_v hour; 
There's a whispering in the valleys while the days are trip- 
ping by; 
The fair, forest trees in serried ranks are shorn of all their 
splendor, 
By the blasts of cool November, which announce that all 
must die. 

The lovely green of summer now is sere and yellow leaf; 

The gorgeous red of autumn time is rusting 'neath the blast: 
The river banks and wild paths, now darkling in their grief. 

Are telling with their wailings that the warmth of summer's 
past. 

Where the yellow suns and purpling showers meadows in gold 
attired. 

Converting lanes and orchards into gardens of delight; 
Where goldenrod and astars leaned beside the sumac fired; 

Making distant lines of vision such that endless hopes invite; 

Where the mocking bird and red breast held their carnivals of song 
In fair nature's grand cathedral, fretting the sky's rare arch 
of blue ; 
Where floods of love's chaste melodies were wont their chords 
prolong, 
Is silence, and drear skies, and staring ranks of yew. 

These scenes held so long in memory as the fairest of them all; 

Those rare ones toward which our hopes inclineth forever 
more; 
Inscribe the tablets of our hearts with thoughts that never pall; 

Those rare, divine creations that our spirits all adore. 

Are not these prospects, scattered o'er nature's spacious floor. 
This world's visible emblems of life's immortality; 

Witnesses of the bright divinity that abounds in nature's store; 
Of the Truth and the ever living spirituality? 

Alas! tlie.se scenes which meant so much to us are now no more; 

Wintry blasts and leadened skies have quite usurped their 
gentle thrones; 
But with the passing of the winter, summer will again restore 

All the roses and the lilies to their long accustomed zones. 



FORESTLEAVES. 43 



With the lovely restoration of the azure deeps of heaven; 

With the living green of earth adorning all the walks of man; 
Come the seasons that for us all the rare hopes of life enliven; 

When the crvstal frosts of winter turn to roses every one. 



AN INCIDENT AT FAIRVIEW PARK. 

This afternoon, I went to Fair View Park, 

To view the racing, — partly on a lark, — 

To meet my friends of long ago, 

To talk of politics, and see the show 

Of lovely ladies, all in fair attire, 

And look upon their eyes of liquid fire. 

In buoyant frame of mind, and lightest heart, 

I put aside of life the serious part. 

My musings were most happy for the day; 

No serious turn did lead my mind astray, 

Until I stood beneath the amber sun,'" 

Viewing the game of ball, — the hour past one, — 

When, lo! upon my shoulder leaned a man 

With no light weight, — this was his boldest plan, 

To rest himself upon my wearied back. 

You see I bore my burden and his pack. 

I looked him in the eye, — he never flinched, — 

For once within my life I never winced. 

His nerve was truly great, magnificent! 

I looked him o'er, — this day on pleasure bent, — 

And vowed he was the finest product rare. 

That was displayed this day at Fairview Fair. 



44 FORESTLEAVES 



THIS LIFE'S A MASQUERADE. 

"Man wants but little here below, 

Nor wants that little long." 
Alas! that such a thought should go 

Unchallenged mid the throng. 
Man wants not little here below, 

Nor wants that little long, 
Is true within this vale of woe. 

And should be true in song. 

That man gets little here below, 

And gets that little long, 
Is proven by all the wrecks that strow 

The paths of life along. 
The merchant tires of selling wares, 

Enjoys the sailor's life; 
The sailor daily the sea forswears. 

With all its dangers rife. 

The farmer dreams of urban wealth, 

Of agriculture tires. 
Abandons ways of rural health. 

And roaring logwood fires. 
The millionaire doth build with pride 

His palaces of stone, 
But scorning all in yacht doth ride 

The seas from zone to zone. 

The noble lord forsakes his parks, 

And well bred baying hounds; 
On tropic shores equipped embarks, 

And fiercer beasts surrounds; 
Prefers the mighty bison herds, 

That swarm Wyoming's plains; 
And all the niight}^ jungle lords, 

Beyond the surging mains. 

Even priesthood falls a victim sad 
To gamblers' blank devices; 

One thinks at times mankind is mad. 
Seduced with Satan's vices. 



FORESTLEAVES. 45 



But all the world's a stage, 'tis said, 
Mankind the plaj^ers are: 

Perhaps the play's a. masquerade, 
And all the players fair. 

Perhaps 'tis due to aspirations 

Arising in the soul; 
Perhaps the players act their parts 

According to the role; 
Perhaps the drama of our lives 

Is written by the God, 
Who sketched the universal plan. 

And made the man of blood. 

The man of blood, s.ye, he of mind, 

And he of heart, and soul. 
And he of action, he of deeds. 

Who acts the imperial role. 
The flower of all creation; he 

It is of whom alone 
God fathoms every motive. 

Each thought to action grown. 



THE MAID OF ATHENS. 

The wintry wind blew wild and chill; 
No flower was seen in dale, on hill; 
Within that mansion all was bright. 
Where dwelt the lovely maid that night. 

I stood beside the harpischord 
With heart that throbbed with each soft word, 
And gazed upon her lovely face; — 
Athens, adorned with every grace. 

She sang the songs I loved to sing. 
About which youthful memories cling; 
She sang of love, that broke my heart. 
With all a woman's power and art. 



46 FORESTLEAVES. 

"Alas!" she said, "that one short hour 
Should see the bud a fallen flower; 
Should see the fountaiii cease to flow; 
The bright day change to evening glow. 

"Alas! that one short hour should see 
Our love bud, bloom, and severed be. 
Farewell, my love, but not for aye. 
One parting word, but not good-by. 

"When trees put on their living green, 
And azure skies again are seen, 
Our love again we'll then renew, 
This rapturous theme again pursue." 



THANKSGIVING DAY. 

I love our grand Thanksgiving Day, 
That comes in cool November; 

The autumn leaves that strew the ground 
Make me this day remember. 

Our pilgrim fathers left their homes, 
And came to this broad land. 

To flee the wrath of English king; 
A brave, heroic band. 

And when the God, who cared for them. 
Had kept them from all harm, 

They set apart this day for thanks. 
For His protecting arm. 

And thus it is we keep this da}'. 

To ever bear in mind, 
That God bestows His blessings grand 

On those of thankful mind. 

Our hearts should ever grateful be, 

And filled with purpose firm, 
To love our God and neighbors kind. 

And noblv live life's term. 



FORESTLEAVES. 47 



TO A TINY CHICK CAUGHT ON A BARB 
OF A WIRE FENCE. 

Poor, frightened, struggling, cr3ang chick! 
To rescue thee I'll hasten quick; 
To catch thy wing's a naughty trick 

For thee to play; 
It makes the mother's heart quite sick 

The livelong day. 

Barb'rous fence of pointed wire! 

Thou'st spread thyself throughout this shire, 

And harms 't more creatures than dost fire 

When at its worst; 
The only favor with the buyer 

Is cheapness, curst! 

Thy cruel barbs and slender strands 

Do wrap and pierce, — O wicked bands! — 

Many a horse that nobly stands 

His master's needs; 
The innocence of beasts demands 

Thy flight from meads. 

On thee no singing negro sits. 
Whose jaded team its furrow quits. 
To rest his limbs, and turn his wits 

To happier things; 
No woodland songster round thee twits 

His merry rings. 

All serpent like thou hid'st thy sting, 
And dartest quick as poisoned fling 
Of savage bow, or flutt'ring wing 

Of frightened bird , 
Upon thy prey, its life to wring, 

With ne'er a word. 

Thy pois'nous barbs and hidden threads 
Resemble most that one that treads 
O'er a good name, and with it weds 

Malicious lies; 
My curses on those villians' heads 

That truth despise. 



48 PORESTLEAVES 



Yet, little chick! thy plight doth mind, 
That honest povert}'^ doth find 
This selfish world quite as unkind 

As thou this barb ; 
Yet oft the poor have round them, twined. 

Love's holy garb. 

Dear innocence most oft gets harmed, 
B}^ fiendish beasts that rove full armed 
In human forms, with manners charmed 

To work its ruin; 
Many a maid is ne'er alarmed 

To flee brute bruin. 

Often doth fate permit high worth 
Obscure to dwell on this huge earth. 
And grant the palm to souls full dearth 

Of all that's noble; 
Each year of life mak'st cruel mirth 

With worth's sad trouble. 

Thou tiny, thing, remember well 
This incident which thee befell; 
Experience most rung thy knell, 

And laid thee low; 
Where'er thou roamest, field or dell, 

Do thy path know. 

Likewise, young woman! take thou heed 
Of every look, and word, and deed. 
Or thou wilt savor of the weed 

Which the world scorns; 
Of loving kindness thou hast need, 

And not of thorns. 



PORESTLEAVES. 49 

THE HEART OF NATURE. 

Amid the ripening strawberries 

The sparrow reared her j'oiing, 
Unconscious of God's mercies 

Strewn the paths along; 
But nuw this trustful creature fair 

With all her young have flown, 
Be^^ond the wood to skies more rare, 

Where roses are fresh blowm. 

With her departure, I'll confess, 

A certain charm has gone. 
There is the nest in yellow dress. 

The 3^ounglings all have flown. 
The sky is changed, the autumn air 

Hangs hazy o'er the scene. 
And o'er the heart consuming care 

Steals all one's peace serene. 

The wild-bird note one yearns to hear, 

That was so sweet in spring, — 
The quail's, whose whistle sounded clear, 

And through the wheat did ring. 
No more with silver tones rings out. 

Glad welcome to his mate; 
No more his handsome wings flings out, 

While heart songs ring elate. 

More cautious now with coveyed brood 

They feed amid the corn; 
More wary in the search for food. 

Than on that marriage morn. 
Kind Providence within her sphere 

Inspires each gentle breast. 
And guides them calmly, or with fear. 

Throughout their every quest. 

Those rare and yellowed days of fall 

Invite one to the fields; 
From care to the wildwood one call, 

That the blue astar yields. 
At those rare times one's usual ways 

Lose all their charm for thee; 



50 FORESTLEAVES 



One ventures then those rare, rare days, 
Beside the brook and sea. 

Wherever nature dons her dress 

Of living green and yellow; 
Where crickets beetling, loudly' press 

Their chirping to each fellow; 
When seedtime supercedes the sowing, 

The ripened corn the flower, 
When chillier winds around are blowing, 

And smoky skies do lower; 

One then fares forth the child of God, 

With heart that loves no guile, 
As innocent as when one trod 

His childhood's happiest mile; 
And mirrors in the soul the hope, — ■ 

Futurity's bright dream, 
That like a book its pages ope; 

Whence flows a crystal sea. 
Though these full unresponsive prove 

To any thought of thine. 
Nor yield affection's throb of love 

At feeling's golden shrine. 
Yet their unfeeling beauty points 

God's nobler bounds to thee, 
Where sympathy the heart anoints; 

Inspires nobility. 
How silences one's heart of hearts, — 

This silence of the world! 
How to the mind its force imparts, — 

This nature's banner furled! 
In vain one calls for it to speak; 

It never deigns reply; 
Beside this force man is full weak; 

An atom in the sky. 
Cold, unresponsive, pulseless one, 

Created without heart. 
Or mind, or soul, and but a stone. 

That knows not e'en its part; 
O thus thou art, O world of worlds! 

The sphinx is plain to thee. 



FOR EST L E A V ES. 51 



Although thy beauty, cold, unfurls, 
Thou hast no word for nie; 

Save that which springs within the soul, 

In Herculean strife. 
To have communion with a scroll 

Purporting to have life. 
O why this silence of the ages, 

Unsympathetic quite; 
Just like a book with blankest pages; 

And like the darkest nioht? 



GYPSY LASSIES. 

Gypsy lassies, wild and winsome. 

Clad in silks and soldier hats, 
Thy brown cheeks and darker eyes, 

L,ithesome forms and jett}^ plats, 
Grace the charming woods and vales, 

And the pebbled river banks, 
Charm the hearts of lovers wild, 

And impress more sober ranks. 

Rocking pine trees utter sighings. 

Jealous breezes walk the vales. 
Balsam firs weep fragrant tears. 

Sweetly chant the nightingales. 
When they hear thy footsteps coming 

To each gladsome, wild retreat, 
For they know that ye are blooming 

Children true of nature sweet. 

Chant your songs, ye gypsy lassies! 

Wild and weird, and strange and sweet; 
Put to blush the robin redbreast; 

Drive the thrush to calm retreat; 
To thy wild and winsome beauty, 

To thy life, each day a psalm. 
To thy sprightly, happy manners, 

I will grant life's, lovely palm. 



52 FORESTLEAVES 



JOHN PAUL JONES. 

We hail thee, John Paul Jones, sea-fighting Viking! 

We hail thee home again, patriot of ancient days! 

Thrice welcome ring our greetings o'er the main, 

As thou returnest on thy last voyage. 

Stern Norse-soul of a battle-strewing sea! 

America awaits to homage pay 

To him who fought a tyrant from the seas; 

And helped break chains that bound men's souls and hearts, 

Forged in the furnace of the old world's monarchies. 

The least America could do, John Paul Jones! 

To express her gratitude this century. 

And show appreciation for thy lofty servdces, 

Would be to raise a stately monument o'er th}^ remains; 

Inscribe thereon thy glory which is hers; 

And point the future generations to thy fame; 

For them to emulate thy patriotism. 

And thus preserve inviolate their heritage, — 

The glorious group of American liberties. 

Rest, sweetly, softlj^ rest in thy last, long sleep of death, — 

The sleep of the just, and sleep of the brave! 

Beneath a monument of mighty ships. 

Crashing with thunderous tones in fray upon the sea! 

Sleep, John Paul Jones! with blessings on thy corse! 

A sympathetic, and an affectionate public 

Sheds round thy monument a gulf of tears! 

Rest, patriot of ancient days! in sterling peace! 



FORESTLEAVES. 53 



IMMORTAL WASHINGTON. 

Flow tranquilly, river! beneath thy green banks; 

Roll seaward, Potomac! with stateliest air; 
Lap kindly the green with thy marshalling ranks. 

For Washington sleeps in his majesty there. 

Ye harebells and lilies, that bloom nor despair; 

Ye sweet, purpling lilacs, and hawthorn so gay. 
Drape lovely these shores with thine blossomings rare, 

For the spirit of freedom broods here lovely alway. 

1,0 ved turtles soft cooing from cedar and pine; 

Thou wild shrinking deer that the fragrant wilds rove, 
Dwell fearlessly near the Virginian shrine. 

Where Washington sleeps, and my countrymen love. 

Inspired may thy tones be melodiously sweet, 
For liberty claims thee her own shaded seat; 

Here Washington brave, and the Light of the World, 
Sought freedom's sweet smiles, and her banners unfurled. 

As daily the sun in unvarying course 

Pursues through those azure deeps time's faltering steps; 
x^s nightly the moon shines with radiant force, 

We offer our prayers for the soul that there sleeps. 

When ages roll by and stern history tells 

The advance of the nations, and their settings in story, 
Columbia's fame as it onward e'er swells, 

Will brightest far be in the fullness of glory. 

When time doth him scan bright Columbia's field, 
And note there the lights that life's purpose evince, 

The most luminous .star in sweet liberty's shield 
Will be Washington, patriot, hero and prince. 

Flow tranquilly, river! beneath thy green banks; 

Roll seaward, Potomac! with stateliest air; 
Lap kindly the green with thy marshalling ranks, 

For Washington sleeps in his majesty there. 



54 FORESTLEAVES. 



ALASKAN LEGEND. 

In Alaska there's a legend 

Of a princess royal, 
Taken by a tribe of bears, 

Who were e'er disloyal. 
She was very beautiful, — 

Subjects of most legends are; 
And was greatly loved by all; 

Maiden rare, beyond compare. 

With her captors dwelt a witch, 

Who did pit}^ much the maid, 
For she knew e'er many weeks 

They would act and her degrade; 
With a crooning voice she said, 

"Take this leathern bag and flee 
At the word I'll give to thee. 

Hesitate, and thou shalt die. 

"Take this leathern bag," said she, 

"Scatter contents on your way; 
Bit of rock, a tiny piece, 

Wisp of devil's club, like hay, 
String of moss, both dry and sear, 

And a crystal drop, a tear. 
Cast these four upon your way. 

They will bring you right good cheer. 

Time for her to flee arrived, 

And the witch her promise gave, 
To assure complete escape 

From her damp, confining cave. 
Fleeing over mountains high. 

Valleys deep, and broad champlane, 
She perceived the bears pursuing 

Close upon her on the plain. 

Taking rock from leathern bag, 

Cast it far behind her; 
Up there grew a mighty mountain, 

Which awhile the bears deter. 



FORESTLEAVES. 55 

But with wondrous fleetness 

The creatures it surmounted; 
Close pursuing on the way — 

Great misfortune she accounted. 

From the leathern bag she took 

Tiny speck of devil's club, 
Cast it far behind her; 

Up there sprang a slender shrub, 
And the densest forest grew, 

Momentarily increasing 
Through the valley far and wide; 

From pursuit the maid releasing. 

On her way rejoicing gladly 

Went the princess royal, 
Thinking she had made escape 

From the tribe disloyal. 
But e'er while the tangled thicket 

Ceased to impede the creatures wild; 
On the mountain she perceives them. 

Gaining on her steps so mild. 

Then she flung behind her far, 

Wisp of moss from leathern bag. 
Mighty swamps o'erspread the earth. 

Filled with moose, and wolves, and stag. 
This a mighty barrier proved, 

Densely unaccountable, 
But was destined not to prove 

Wholly unsurmountable. 

Passage gained they onward came, 

Thinking that the princess fair 
Had exhausted all her arts 

To their steps impede or snare. 
Lastly from the leathern bag 

The crystal tear she flung. 
And behind a mighty river 

Into being sprung. 

Those descending rocky banks, 
Laved by surging flood. 



56 FORESTLEAVES. 



Stopped her wild pursuers, 
Their advance withstood. 

Voice of sweetest accent met her; 
'Twas her father, who beside her 

Stood and welcomed to his kingdom 
Princess lost and found aaraiu. 



YOU WOULD HAVE LOVED HER. 

You would have loved her had you seen her face; 
Would have adored her had you seen her form; 
Had you beheld her, loveliest of her race! 
Yottr heart would now be troubled with love's storm. 

When first I saw her on those greenwood heights 
She was a picture that had drawn a prize, 
A Titian portrait placed 'neath perfect lights. 
O could a Titian her immortalize! 

O could he catch the light of those bright eyes. 
Those orbs in fancy's realms were lovely seas. 
Across whose azure deeps love's sweet decrees 
Have sailed in many a fair and goodh^ breeze. 

could he catch the charm of her sweet smile; 
Could he preserve the wealth of beauty there; 
And those elusive graces that beguile 

And lead one step by step to vain despair! 

When first I met the glance of her bright ej^es, 

1 read the doom fate portioned me of old. 
Nor would her brightest smile forere suffice 
To avert the allotted doom so long foretold. 

Time cannot break the iron chain of fate; 
Cannot efface the edicts of my doom. 
How then can love its golden dream relate, 
Before it dons the shroud of darkline tomb? 



FORESTLEAVES. 57 



THE SUN'S BEAMS. 

O dart thy beams, most glorious sun! to earth, 

And meet at least in equal combat winds 

That blow from out the frost bound northern skies. 

Winds that have rusted all of summer's green. 

Where blooming flowers enlivened all the scene, 

One now beholds an icy coverlet; 

Where trees afforded homes for mated birds 

Is seen the naked, ice-bound, swaying boughs. 

Bluff winter rules the season and the days. 

Some sleep beneath earth's crust the ice-bound hours. 

While others take their flight in dark November 

To wide Brazilian, tropic streams and glades. 

Mankind secludes himself with bounteous board 

Indoors beside the hearth piled high with logs. 

The lofty trees, bending their tops to earth 

With snowy burden, bear him no concern. 

The furrow's icy crown, or snow filled vale, 

Fill not his soul with apprehension. 

Long nights and snow filled blasts annoy him not: 

He trusts the summer season's sure return. 

Dart the full quiver of thy golden darts, 

Radiancy divine! enthroned aloft. 

Dart, and fear not the blustering, bluffing sage. 

He may array thee strong in battle line 

Awhile, but soon thou shalt see him retreat. 

With the fair advent of thy marshalled hosts, 

Bright luminary! all the world rejoice. 



58 FORESTLEAVES 



HOLLYHOCKS. 

My garden hath a bed where the hollyhock blooms; 
'Tis seen near the field where the yellow corn brooms; 
It beareth the sign of the artist's, rare brush, 

Who painted the lily, and the roses' faint blush. 

My garden hath a bed where a friendship grows; 
'Twas planted by the sign of the first June rose; 
'Tis such a rare plant, and so delicately wrought, 

I fear the blasts of winter will its beauty render naught. 



IMMORTELLES. 

I planted the seed of the amaranth flower 
Last spring when the sun had followed the shower; 
I thought I should gather the fair immortelle. 

As it blossomed the morn near the seat by the well. 

When I shall have gathered the fair immortelle, 
I thought I would weave it with memories well; 
It's perennial brightness, unfading the day. 

Would strengthen the hope of the immortal way. 

But when the fair season had passed, and had gone, 
And ne'er a bright flower had bloomed on the lawn. 
Disappointment was mine, which suggested the thought, 

Perhaps all immortelles will thus come to naught. 

There is a fair flower that springs in my heart, — 
A pure immortelle of the heavenly sort; 
'Twas planted when hopes in my breast ran high. 

And grew every year the perennials by. 

'Tis a flower I have cherished whilst the 3^ears have gone by 
And 'twill blossom most surely more freely and high, — 
A perennial fair, and a pure immortelle. 

Fadeless and bright, by the heart's living well. 



FORESTLEAVES. 59 



A WINTER DAY. 

Sakes! how old Boreas cloth blow, 

And drives full hard both wind and snow; 

With grizzl}^ face and eyes that glow, 

He bellows hoarse, 
And niak^s the rivers cease to flow 

Their customed course. 

Outside the storm doth rage full mad, 
And beat our house as though 'twere glad 
To do us mortal injury, sad. 

I rue the day, 
When cruel Boreas, bold pad. 

Doth low me lay. 

Far to the south cold Phoebus strays. 
And hurries quick his course these days; 
O'er southern lands he pours his rays, 

Bright, golden tresses. 
Selene, bright, departs her ways, 

To shower sweet kisses. 

No flow'rs now deck these fields so bleak; 
A mantle white clothes vale and peak; 
And every creature deigns to seek 

A shelter warm. 
All nature, chill, doth strive to .speak 

The wild alarm. 

Wild is the blast, and drear the sight. 
Around my gate and lattice tight; 
High heaps the snow in drifts all white 

Outside my door. 
God help the poor this wintry night, 

I do implore. 

Poor, drooping bird, torn by the blast. 
And at my door so rudely cast; 
At thy cold grave I stand aghast 

With saddened heart. 
Alas! thy cheerful strains are past; 

Thou' St played thy part. 



60 FORESTLEAVES. 

Joy thou, my soul, in what thou hast; 
Help thou the poor, wherever cast, 
For death will lay thee low at last 

As this poor bird. 
When kind to all, whatever their past, 

Th}' prayer'U be heard. 



HELENIA. 

Helenia! thy wavy, sun-lit hair, 

Complexion of peaches-and-cream's eloquence. 
Thy heart-entwining smile, and silvery tear, 

Have ta'en unlawfully my heart's quintessence. 

Helenia! O sweet Helenia! 

Refrain thy showery, tearful smiles the day; 
Forget thou the Venetian gondola. 

And him who sang thy gentle heart away. 

Forget those seas o'er which Nicaean barks 

Drift with white sails perfumed with aloe- wood; 

Thou fair gazelle! that feedest in wild parks, 
Array thy soul in love's sublimest mood. 

Helenia! Henlopen's waves, that dash 

Around our feet, have seen my love for thee 

Grow warm the days, whilst breathes the tender ash, 
And sigh the gentle pines beside the sea. 

Waft o'er thy memories the silvery tears 

Thou'st shed for him the lingering, star-lit night, 

When thou and he, the long lost purpling years, 
Dreampt but of love, and of love's pure delight. 

Helenia! the flight of purpling years, 

Circl'ing the beauty of thy youthful da5^s. 

Hath left thee lone upon a sea of tears, — 
A fair, lone bark amid the dashing sprays. 



FORESTLEAVES. 61 



ODE TO ROBERT BURNS. 

Lov'd Burns, sweet singer of proud Scotia's soil! 
Low born like Christ in earth's most lowly place, 
And like Him, S3aiipathizer of our race! 
Destined thou wast to cheer the sons of toil 
With the sweet songs and sobbings of thine heart. 
To sing of all the arts, 
That foll'weth Cupid's darts. 
And of life's joys and fears, wast thine own part. 
Thy neighbor, thine interpretation was 
The daisy, timid mouse. 
The hare, and feathered grouse, 
And fallen sister weeping to the buzz 
Of spinning wheel beneath her lowh' roof. 
Of thy nobility such is the proof. 
How wondro^is are the works, the ways of God! 
How opposite are they 
To careless, worldly way! 
God's noblest son is oftenest the clod, 
That richer brother's heel 
Doth grind, and life congeal. 
From lowly hut, 
And grinding rut, 
The talents of the world do spring. 
The bells of heaven, sweet angels ring, 

That were earth born; 
The sweetest voices that do sing. 
From want are torn; 
The hearts, that are most easily wrung by sight 
Of lonely poverty's most with 'ring blight. 
Have shed the bitter tear 
At haughty brother's sneer; 

And felt the sting of winter's cold, 
And blasts, that oft the poor enfold. 
So thou, great heart! didst drink thy cup of pain 

And sorrow to its deepest depth: 
And eat the bread of proud men's deep disdain, 
That forced from thee those lamentations, sore, 
That moved the world to weep with thee, and pour 
Its heart's blood in thy cup with thine. 



62 FORESTLEAVES. 

Much pain and sorrow do the heart refine; 

Destruction oft is reconstruction's sign. 

From out of thine imposed obscurit}-, 

Thou didst emerge with strength, superb, and choice; 

And didst interpret nature, subtle, shy. 

And sing her lays in richest, sweetest voice, 

While human hearts love well, and break, and weep. 

The}' will thy words > as fairest jewels, keep. 



JENNY OF SWANENDALE. 

Upon thy shores, sweet Swanendalel 

Where leaps the silver}- tide, ^ 

Sweet Jenny gave her pledge to me. 

That she'd become my bride; 

And e'er will I be true, 
For there I pledged my bo^Iy love, 

And at her feet it threw. 

Her love it is the sweetest. 

That ever mortal knew; 
Her heart is far the purest. 

That ever life blood drew; 

Her smile is all to me. 
For on thy shores I pledged my heart 

Upon my bended knee. 

Th}' shores are strewn with golden sands. 

Thy plains with fragrant groves. 
Thy vales with murm'ring, dimpling streams. 

O'er which joy laughing doves; 

But more than beauties many, 
That thou so proudly boastest, 

I love my own sweet Jenu}'. 



FOREST LEAVES 



63 



SILVER STREAMS. 

How pleasant are thy streams, loved Swanendale! 

That course their tranquil ways to thy fair strands; 
How oft do they in beauty spread their frail 

And crystal tides in lakes o'er golden sands. 

How picturesque the overhanging trees 

Of chestnut, beech and dogwood, blooming white, 

That gently sway to kissings of the breeze 

And dip to drink the sparkling waters bright. 

The choral blackbird hid amid the reeds, 

The cunning crow seeking security. 
The fluty-tongued thrush warbling love's deeds, 

All speak to me thy rare sublimity. 

The twitt'ring, swallow skimming light the wave. 
The wild rose gayly blooming on the banks, 

The purling rill, that springs from woodland cave. 
Induce me oft to visit their sweet ranks. 

Beneath yon aged beech whose gnarled roots 
Curl ruggedly along the laureled bank. 

The youthful lovers pour their tender thoughts, 
And pledge affection's every grace and rank. 

Hard by yon drooping willow casting far 

Its dim uncertain shade o'er the faint green. 
Haunts some bereaved one, as gleam of star 

Lights the late raised mould faintly serene. 
How pleasant is the fair descending bank. 

Where "summer suns warm greenwood into life", 
And ages past Virginia deer calm drank. 

And belled her wild wood intonations rife; 

Where densely trails the myrtle delicate 

Amid the flowering thorn in dreamy sweetness; 
Where nightly trills the gay non-celibate 

His love song boisterous with its rich repleteness. 
These charm the heart, and cheer the gloomy soul, 

That steeped with sorrow lifts it& weary head 
From introspection into life more whole, 

More perfect, that to happiness is wed. 



64 FORESTLEAVES. 

How rich the soul that seeks thy lovely charms, 
And rids itself of trifling cares that gall 

The freer life with irksomeness, alarms, 
That steal the peace and quietude of all. 

The joyfuluess and happiness of life 

Are thus increased an hundred fold or more, 

And sweeter are the moments freed from strife, 
That to human life, happiness restore. 



TEA PARTY. 

O steep a pot of tea, dear! 

Steep it to a "T," 
Call the neighbors far and near, 

And let's have glee. 

Steep it brown and berry like. 

Tea from tropic isle, 
Steep it brown for all alike; 

It brings the cheery smile. 

O let's have glee, dear! 

O let's have glee. 
Sitting round the glowing fire, 

To pass the time away. 



MARIGOLDS. 

I have a vase of the pure, minted gold; 
'Twas poured by the sun in an emerald mold; 
'Tisseen in my garden as one passeth by, — 

Marigolds lingering 'neath the fair, blue sky. 

I have another vase of the minted bow, 
That graces the sky as the showers go, 
So delicately d3^ed, and perfectly spun, — 

Zinnias sent from the land of the sun. 



FORESTLEAVES. 65 



STUBBLE FIELDS. 

Give me the fresh mown stubble-field, — 

I ask for nothing else, — 
For each sweet stalk and fallen shield 

Mv heart continuonsly melts. 

I love the incense fragrant, sweet, 

That rises to my brow; 
Each waving stalk, uncut, doth meet 

The wind's sweet pulses now. 

Each scattered grain will feed the bird 

That nestles in the thorn; 
Each fallen reed will give the word 

To seek some other bourne. 
Bend low thine weeping eyes, sweet thrush! 

And sob for young ones flown, 
And then with flight at breaking flush 

Seek thou the south alone. 

The sun doth rise and sink to rest 

Beyond those rocking woods, 
And man doth live and die in quest 

Of life beyond the floods; 

So thou, brown, melancholy bird. 

That once so sweetly sang. 
Must take thy flight, unseen, unheard, 

Where trackless skies o'erhang. 

I love to haunt where waving corn 

Doth glisten to the sun. 
And hear the quail's sweet, fluty horn 

Ring to the bride he'd won; 

But when in ripened shocks is placed 

Each weeping, bending reed, 
My heart grows sad as death doth haste 

To point me to my need. 

O Thou, almighty, living God! 

Haste to support my feet, 
And cleanse my heart from earthly sod, 

That comes upon me fleet. 



66 FORESTLEAVES. 



ALMA MATER. 

Awake, awake, ye sons of men; 

Lafayette, our Lafayette! 
The day breaks on the lion's den; 

Lafayette, ottr Lafayette! 
Go forth with all thy might and main, 
The hosts of ignorance enchain 
Knowing nor fear, nor threat, nor pain; 

I^afayette, our Lafayette! 

Our mother of the tranquil skies; 

Lafayette, our Lafayette! 
The lion's whelp conquers or dies; 

Lafayette, our Lafayette! 
The rule of time we never fear, 
Thy influence is ever near, 
And to each heart doth e'er endear, 

Lafayette, our Lafayette! 

Thy benefactions, Lafayette, 

Lafayette, our Lafayette! 

We'll ne'er forget, no ne'er forget, 
Lafayette, our Lafayette! 

Let love's sweet benedictions fall 

Upon thy templed hill and hall; 

All future time will great thee call; 
Lafayette, our Lafayette! 

When earthly shows veil our true sight, 

Lafayette, our Lafa^^ette! 
We'll look for guidance to thy light; 

Lafayette, our Lafayette! 
Though hands of time their burdens lay 
Upon our brows, till dying day 
We'll never turn from thee away, 
Lafavette, our Lafavette! 



FORESTLEAVES. 67 



YULE-TIDE REPLECTIONS. 

Cold blows the bitter-biting blast, 
As down from Labrador at last 
Old Boreas, with face aghast. 

All boldly sweeps, 
And with his magic boots us past 

His chill course keeps 

To where the orange blossoms bloom, 
And oriole, with rudest loom. 
Endeavors much to fit a room 

To keep her young; 
And insects droning through the gloom, 

The reeds among; 

And sweeps among the lindens tall. 
That overhang our cottage wall. 
And through the crevices and small 

Whistles full shrill, 
And seems to us within to call 

To mind its will. 

With mental weariness and care, 
Through laying arguments all bare, 
I laid my book within its lair, 

And inward gazed. 
The village clock rang through the air 

In tones that blazed 

The mind with thoughts funereal, 
And lit the flame, most magical. 
That leads to acts oft tragical 

To human soul , 
And died away, as mystical. 

As witching ghoul. 

And, with the sound, there floated in 
Through dusty windows shadows, thin 
At first, then thicker, till within 

The quaint old room 
I nothing saw, nor heard the din, 

That ceated, as gloom 



68 FORESTLEAVES. 

Approached, and brooded o'er the town, 
Like winged monster and his frown 
Of fabled past. And the white down 

Of heaven fell 
All noiselessly upon its own 

Within earth's cell. 

And of the event I pondered o'er, 

Of Christ's lone birth, and all His store 

Of simple, philosophic lore; 

And of the life 
He lived, and of the fruits it bore 

Through earthly strife. 

With thoughts of past, and of mine own 
Fond dreams, when as a child, life shone, 
With sweet attractive blossoms blown. 

Around my way, 
I meditated deep alone 

With God this day. 

Of how I knelt long years ag-o 

At mother's knee, with heart aglow, 

And said, "Our Father"; then to stow 

Me snug and warm 
Within my bed, she bended low, 

And frightened harm 

From off my mind, as on ni}^ brow 
She placed the kiss, that even now 
Thrills in my dreams. And even how 

I then did ask, 
Who Jesus was, when she did low 

And sweetly task 

Herself to teach my childish mind. 
And, lo! the answer came full kind, 
"Jesus is God." Then moaned the wind 

About our home, 
And slumber me did gently find. 

Nor troublesome. 

Then I did well remember how 

I climbed, when as a boy, the mow. 



FORESTLEAVES. 69 



And strayed the fields, and watched the cow 

Bite upward quick, 
And hunted for the mistle' bough 

Along the creek; 

And how we skated winter nights, 
Returning home with appetites. 
That quick disposed of the delights 

Upon our boards, 
And slept the sleep that health invites. 

And joy accords. 

And of the many loves I had, 

That did mine inmost heart make glad. 

And then the thought came o'er me sad, 

. Of how a man 
Oppressed a widow and her lad. 
At which began 

My drooping face to heated be. 

To know the right a man, though he 

As Croesus were did have to ply 

His selfish trade 
To oppress the poor of low degree, 

And them upbraid. 

And where 's the justice of God's grace. 
That heaps upon this human race 
The miseries, that come apace 

Through others deeds. 
As though our own do not embrace 

The sable weeds; 

And Where's the kindness of His heart. 
That makes us suffer for the part 
Our willful parents play so smart? 

Yet no one knows 
His will, nor understands the art, 

That from Him flows. 

God liveth ever, even now; 
That right is truth, men will allow; 
That all are steeped within the slough 
Of sinful lust. 



70 FORESTLEAVES. 

And all the acts of men endow 
Us with disgust. 

Each understands and all believe; 

Life's purposes but few perceive; 

Thin treach'rous shadows men deceive. 

All hail to him. 
Who leaves the springs of wrong to cleave 

With heart and limb 

To paths of righteousness and truth. 
Then I awoke to things of youth. 
Endeavoring much to stay the ruth 

Within my heart; 
And, wending way far toward the south, 

I did depart. 



SONGS OF NATURE. 

There's a song upon the apple boughs a-flooding all the air, 
As the morning breaks in splendor o'er the meadow and the 
plain; 

There's a chorus on the river banks dispelling gloom's despair. 
Proclaiming that the winter's gone, and spring's return again. 

There's a whiteness and a pinkness on the orchard's spreading 
bough ; 
There's a sign of summer's freedom on the tree tops at the 
dawn: 
O the joy within the manly heart, that follows up the plow, 
A-cutting through the stubborn glebe, the fallow land, and 
lawn. 

There's the lightness and the joyfulness a-springingin the heart. 
That finds its greatest pleasure in the tilling of the soil; 

There's the rapture and the thrilling that is heaven's counter- 
part; 
These are just the reasons for the farmer's daily toil. 

There's the fragrance and the beauty of the orchard's springing 
bloom ; 



FORESTLEAVES. 71 

The gloiy of the early morn a-gleaming in the sky; 
The charm of many patterns wove in natnre's spacious loom; 

These rejuvenate the heart; these awaken drowsy eye. 
There's the song upon the lips, and the song within the heart; 

These redeem the fallen nature, and the brutishness of man; 
There's the song within the soul, and the song love's counter- 
part ; 

These proclaim the grandure and the majesty of man. 

There's a song upon the lips of nature babbling like a brook; 

There's an uplift over meadow, winding river, piney grove; 
Rising from the heart of earth all bouyant, might in every look, 

Heave the monotones of nature with the undertones inwove. 

The pleasant spring is building all the earth anew with green. 
Adorning all the by-ways with the beauty of her youth; 

Thus through her fair return ings, with gentlest, sweetest mien, 
The earth seems not so barren, nor our lives of living truth. 

How pleasantly the rivers flow amid their flowery banks, 
When nature has a rolling song upon her youthful lips; 

How refreshing are the wiiids of heaven blowing ranks on ranks 
Of ocean's precious argosies and airy, winged ships! 

Then the gorgeous year with richest hand showers on her maid- 
en season 

All the wealth that earth is heir to, all the riches of the east; 
Immortal vigor, powers celestial, and all that reason 

Yieldeth, that heaven contriveth for a royal marriage feast. 

This the hour when the south winds move on the wings of gen- 
tle spring. 
When the firey, burning sun northward extends his radiant 
beam , 
Revives the meads and fields, induces birds to gayly sing. 
The bleating herds to witness the reviving year and dream. 

Go, thou north wind! and to thy going we extend a glad fare- 
well ; 
Thou, boy! having lost thy fiercest virtues to the smiles of 
lovely spring; 
Peace hath been proclaimed where wasting wars and enmity 
did dwell. 
And her emblazonry and gentle arms around do ring. 



72 FORESTLEAVES. 



Behold! this is the fair precurser of the golden year, 
When cups of rare ambrosia preceed delicious fruit; 

When blue skies shed their brightest influence on earthl}^ sphere; 
When to spring's moists pledged vows fair summer's marriage 
follows suit. 



TO VIOLA. 

Return, O nn^ charmer! return to thy love; 
Return to the bosom, that's waiting for thee; 
The sun's lengthened course, as it circles above, 

Makes dreary the breast, that was once light and free. 

Remember the bosom, that nestled thy head, 
And comforted thee with assurance of love; 
Remember the tear.s, that were lovingly shed, 

As pledged we our vow>5 with the orange abo\"e. 

O cherish the memories, that often return 
To gladden our hearts with sweet dreams of the past! 
O cherish the moments of bliss, that do burn 

With sweet inspiratiqn our hearts' recesses fast! 

O tear' not my bosom with longings for thee! 
O heed the sweet call to return to thy love! 
My heart's only pleasure, O list to my plea, 

And happy my heart make with joy from above! 

Sweet angel of light and blest image divine. 
Sweet thrillings of rapture now rush o'er my breast, 
lyike music of harps and light dancings of wine, 

When crowned with the myrtle I sing at my best. 



FORESTLEAVES. 73 



SONNETS. 

Now lovely Morn awakes from slumbers sweet, 
And rises prompt to rouse the sleeping earth; 
Her tasks she first assumes of matchless worth, 
Spreading her canvas wide with tints replete. 
To where the high and lower heavens meet; 
And touching lighth' gives each fancy birth, 
That springs within her mind of wondrous girth. 
With plaque, paint-pots, and brushes, canvas sheet. 
She hastens w^estward on the wings of light. 
What pleasures must the lovely Morn enjoy! 
She quaffs from flower-cups the lustrous dews, 
Each moment presses gardens, flowering, bright. 
Inhales the fragrance that the gods oft cloy. 
Each river, vale, and fertile plain reviews. 

The hoar frost in chill winter paints the pane; 
He paints mysteriously in dead of night, 
And keeps his secret from our curious sight. 
He lives just as the wind that rocks the vane, 
And travels summer lands with numerous train. 
Each fern and leaf and flower to pencil, light. 
Yield their fair forms, and further search invite. 
Each vale doth yield to him nor e'er complain. 
Then Morn, with glowing eyes the panes looks in; 
She sees the magic frost at work within. 
And bids him cease his work 'gainst curious eye. 
But he must on, and curious look defy; 
She passes, looks each window in, then stops, 
And for each sleeping eye a message drops. 

Now Morning older grows and into Noon; 
A woman dressed in gorgeous robes and fair. 
With radiant face, and golden, streaming hair. 
Her lustrous eyes, to earth a happy boon. 
In azure settings, fair as nightly moon, 
Warm the chill earth, and dry the gushing tear. 
View her, you cry. Behold the Noon, the rare. 
The radiant one, the earth is hers and soon. 
She older grows, and lingers in the west 



74 FORESTLEAVES. 

Upon her throne, in choicest colors drest. 
Her scepter wields o'er all the mortal race, 
And claims each heart, that loves the poet's place. 
She soon resigns her brilliant place to-night; 
The glowing throne, the charm of mortal sight. 

Evening arrives in elegant attire; 
Her comely neck and fairest bosom wound 
With lustrous pearls, her ej^es with light abound; 
. Rare jewels, laces, finest silks conspire 
To enhance her beauty, and sweet grace acquire; 
With richest fabrics Persia's looms surround 
Her gorgeous throne, in splendor world renowned, 
And Fancy's fingers all the scene inspire. 
For her old ocean's caves their treasures yield. 
And spheres their wealth from richest mine and field; 
Through all her rosv countenance beams forth, 
Like some fair woman's of exceeding worth, 
And from her eyes transcendent love serene 
Shines, and irradiates the heavenly mien. 

She waves her sceptre; myriad courtiers bow, 
And numberless her trains of maidens greet 
The radiant queen with long-thrown kisses sweet. 
O'er her dominions, each with massy brow, 
Richly caparisoned, her horsemen go; 
And million snowy sails, a gorgeous fleet. 
Command the shores of heaven and earth complete. 
Again her sceptre waves, and from below 
The Queen of Night appears with silver bow 
And spangled courtiers, bright; Eve's maidens go, 
And yield their sovereignty to blessed Night, 
Who rules the vital earth with quiet might. 
He holds such milder rule than active day 
That earth, ambitious, 3delds to his sweet sway. 

Attired in sable robes majestic Night 
Greets the retiring Evening with his power; 
His magic touch brings fay and elf from flower. 
Heaven's azure deeps, and caves obscure to sight, 
And leads them through fair gardens of delight. 
Each fairy circle, heath and leafy bower, 



FORESTLEAVES. 75 



"Clear spring- and shady grove," and midnight hour, 

Its wonders hath in dancing fay and spright. 

Cupid is chief, a careless, roguish boy, 

Whose delight is in seeking maidens coy, 

To shoot his arrow dipped with poisoned dew 

Into their hearts, so tender, sweet and true. 

And make them bleed of love, the sweetest wound 

That heart can have and known the world around. 

He fondly lingers in the chilling North, 

Directing winds that cool the sun-scorched South; 

And for his optic pleasure in the great bear's mouth 

Hangs fair Aiu'ora. With his toe on earth 

He stretches forth his arms of mighty girth 

And grasps the pole star, and the cross forsooth. 

And holds them guides for mariners uncouth. 

He sends on errands far his couriers forth. 

His love lorn maidens drop their lustrous tears, 

And on each lidded eye impart a kiss. 

That soothes the heart once freighted low with cares. 

They search each flowery plain and deep abyss 

The summer long, and drop their robes of white 

As Winter comes, and Summer takes her flight. 

His power is wondrous o'er the mortal race, 
When arms victorious clash in dread array. 
And shout and cheer rise in the far away. 
His eye invisible seeks every flushing face. 
And soothes the hating heart howe'er so base. 
In slumbers sweet he leads them till the day 
In glory breaks his dread and mighty sway. 
And routs him from his long retained place. 
His birth was first among God's numerous hosts; 
Nor doth he yield that place to Ught's loud boasts. 
The proud inheritance of all heaven's spheres 
He long hath joyed with all that time endears. 
His rule invigorates the sun-scorched earth, 
And drooping flowers look up as with new birth. 

The wind roams freely o'er the peopled earth; 
As freely as the dreams of pinioned slave. 
His delieht is in coursing crested wave, 



76 FORESTLEAVES. 



And hiding in the snows^ sail with mirth. 

His fickle temper fits the spring's wild birth; 

And brooks no bound nor master's chiding save 

The one on Galilee that Jesus gave. 

His life hath ne'er a care of mention worth. 

He is so fickle that he blows both ways 

At once like Janus with his double mouth. 

He is a wizard, changing form at will; 

Now hides in maple trees and blooming bays, 

Now chases fairy creatures north and south," 

Laughs, blows, and whispers, drinks of dews his fill, 

The sailor watches long to gain his will. 

When snowy sails hang idly on the mast, 

And quiet all save sea-gull sailing past; 

And then the demon wretch with voice full shrill 

Upheaves the ocean once serene and still, 

And holds the goodly ship with fingers fast, 

And drives the sailor to his knees at last. 

He cuddles often in a crevice chill. 

And sallies forth at every passer by. 

He is a curious chap, to mortal eye 

Unseen, yet heard, and felt, and known to he. 

Imprisoned e'er so fast, he doth but flee 

One knows not whither, neither how, nor when. 

Demon he and of sky a denizen. 

One day in May after had fallen sweet showers, 
The meads put on their gorgeous dres,ses rare, 
And soft invited creatures of the air 
To hold their festivals among the flowers. 
Such feast as fairies hold at mid-eve hours. 
The meadow queen spoke to her flowers so fair; 
"Attire yourselves in hues beyond compare." 
Blue violets rose from their verdant bowers. 
Glen lilies with their fair inverted bells. 
And fairy circles grew for dancing places. 
But of the flowers beside the meadow wells, 
And all the loveliness that pencil traces. 
None can for modest loveliness compare 
With dainty buttercups, full blooming, rare. 



FORESTLEAVES. 77 

One da,v in May after soft winds had kissed 
The three leafed clover into milky sweetness, 
Caressed the apple boughs to full repleteness, 
And had chill winter gruff and bold dismissed, 
And dashed headlong adown the sky abyssed, 
Tuning all throats to sing beyond discreetness. 
Filling all creatures' hearts to full completeness. 
Nor aught in the changed season fair remissed. 
After the pent-up sun had burst its bond, 
And with slow step advanced to northern sphere, 
And stirred the heart of nature to its deeps. 
And like a creature from the dark beyond 
Coming full tilt to fashion his career. 
Leaps o'er the abj^sses and ascends the steeps; 

The world attired itself beyond compare. 

And love enthroned was within all hearts. 

On brow of nature fairer than all arts 

Sat beauty, queen of light, and debonair. 

Dispensing favors long the heart's despair, 

Implanting earth with lovely counterparts. 

And million smiles and graces free imparts 

To creatured things of earth, and sea, and air. 

Like to a butterfly that leaps from bed. 

Where it had slept the wintry months away, 

Attired in rarest hues to mortal sight. 

Through the lymph ether, bright, disporting, sped 

In circling courses, as though to display 

Its beauty, joy, and hope, to morning light. 

Like budding aspirations of the mind, 
P^xulting in the climes of thought before 
Unwanged, undiscovered seas of lore. 
That leap and fly as though on kindest wind: 
Like to the hope that springeth most refined 
To heart of youth and bearing precious store; 
Not hope deferred that maketh sick the score 
Of life, and leaveth empty heart and blind. 
Like to the dream of love to heart of youth, 
That springeth high on wings of joy and trust. 
Like to the conquest and the heart's control 
B}^ unremittent power of right and truth; 



78 FORESTLEAVES 



Like to the great reward for good and just, 
Lodg-ed on the battlements of human soul. 

O soul, the mark of man's great dignit}^! 
O mind, the counterpart of human soul! 
Witli equal dignit}^ inscribed upon the roll 
Religious or of apt philosophy; 
For round them both there glows divinity, 
Of such a pure and noble fashion, whole 
Ages past have inscribed them on their scroll; 
Have had them raised to chief authority; 
Some of them have worshipped in idolatrj^, 
O'erlooking the divine command of old, 
Issued by God to Moses times of yore; 
Yet for its wondrous immortality. 
Worthy great adoration, long foretold 
In holy writ, and ancient sacred lore. 

That day in May, whilst through the limpid air 

There stole the resinous sounds of springing flower, 

Nursed into consciousness by April shower, 

Watched o'er by queen of May, so debonair, 

The whole world changed, and with the change despair 

Yielded forthwith her place and subtle power. 

And were transformed into a lovel}' bower, 

Wherein the glories of the earth declare 

The great immutabilities of God 

In rich creative efforts, e'er most fair. 

In holy aspirations budding bright, 

In fairest vales that ever mortal trod. 

In purest thoughts that spring from soulful care 

In love of high divinity and right. 

In such a change the loveliness of God 
Is shown to mortal vision here below; 
'Tis like the incense that from flowers blow 
On the warm airs of spring o'er turf and sod; . 
'Tis like the spirit of the deep that trod 
The murm'ring seas, and voice of even flow 
That gave command to winds times long ago. 
And mien of holiest aspect, and the rod 
Of goodness, scepter of authority. 



FORESTLEAVES. 79 

Within whose perfect hand, is wielded for 
The common weal of all man's kith and kin; ■ 
'Tis like the glance of that mild, patient eye, 
Whose kindly lid ne'er wearily rests, nor 
Fails to bestow its healing glance refined. 

And with the change the joy of heavenly kind 
Usurped the throne long held b}^ vain despair; 
The rightful throne of perfectness and fair; 
Of which deprived by darkness and the mind 
Of evil, and which swept like wind 
High hope from off her throne without compare. 
And all her dear attendants did ensnare; 
But not for aye, for hope the false did bind. 
How beautiful is hope, the spark divine! 
It lights the human mind to noblest thoughts; 
The heart to brave endeavor. L,o, it brings 
Surcease of sorrow, lifts the gloom's confine, 
Expels dark anguish from the soul sin-wrought. 
Attunes the heart to chords of lyric strings. 

Hope leads the fair procession of the Graces, 

And leads the Virtues in a minuet. 

And stately, queen like, when in concourse met, 

The courtesying Nymphs with fairest forms and faces. 

Hope reigns supreme in all the goodly places. 

Doth ever wear a golden coronet. 

Her bright insignia with jewels set 

Adorns her beauteous form with rarest laces. 

Hope is the jewel of the human heart, 

Irradient as the cloudless sun at noon. 

And set resplendently in purest gold. 

Hope dimeth not with age, but doth impart 

A purer light, serene, fair to behold; 

Outshining all the stars or goodl}^ moon. 

The youth, whose heart is set with jewelled hope. 
Advances on life's course with steady rein; 
To him unknown the accident and pain 
Encompassed within the course's scope; 
Unable yet to read life's horoscope. 
Advancing on his pleasant way he fain 



80 FORESTLEAVES. 



Would seize fruitful ambition's fickle train, 
And- ride to victory, that life's doors ope. 
His pulse beats high as o'er the course he rides, 
And feels his buoyant spirits leap to hand, 
To head, to heart, and thrill with steadfast joy. 
With straight composure he the course abides, 
Nor glittering allurements him command. 
Nor golden balls flung out do him decoy. 

Nor doth Nemesis interpose her word, 

Nor intermingle fair prosperity 

With darkling gloom or drear adversity; 

Nor in the common breast revenge e'er stirred. 

Happily he hath not her ill incurred. 

He doth enjoy life's pure felicity, 

For youth and hope are joined in poesy. 

Nor e'er with envy's bitterness concurred. 

Hope in his breast is like a planted seed, 

Nurtured beside an ever-flowing stream. 

Kissed by warm suns, and incense bearing winds. 

That grows to fruitful tree, a perfect dream 

Of beauty in a lovely, flowering mead. 

It one of Beulah's fateful land reminds. 

Truly i.'; hope a Beulah land to him; 

Its very airs are sweet beyond compare; 

Its incense laden breezes are most rare; 

The voice of doves are heard from every limb; 

Each fountain trickles from its gleaming brim; 

Both da}^ and night the sun doth equal share; 

Wayfarers for a season journey there; 

And far behind lies that dark valley grim, 

Where gloom and sorrow rule with equal power; 

It lies upon the border land of heaven; 

Yea, here the bridegroom meets his lovely bride; 

Renews his pledge beneath the orange bower; 

The fields, their corn, the vineyards, wine of seven. 

Yield their abundance, long since Beulah's pride. 

The man, firm in his strength, and rugged might. 
Rose like the sun from out his airy bed. 
Impatient much ambition's dream to wed; 



FORESTLEAVES. 81 



And like a mantle casts aside the night. 

Ye brilliant heavens! behold the pleasing sight, 

And o'er the scene thy happj' influence shed. 

Ye gods of eld! that lightsome Grecians led, 

Irradient look from thy celestial height; 

Bid all thy hosts look on this wondrous sight; 

Reform their valor and their boasts of eld; 

Bid all thy captains mighty deeds perform. 

And more engaging manners bear them light; 

For on the man whose breast with hope is held 

One views the boast of heaven in perfect form. 

When the bright sun ascends fair heaven's steeps. 
Advancing on his daih' course with joy, 
For all celestial bodies bright convoy; 
O'er such a vision the high heaven weeps; 
For such the oceans yield their fairest deeps; 
The earth, and air and water do employ 
Their most engaging manners to decoy 
His perfect favor, while he onward sweeps. 
The blazing orb, self-centered in the sky. 
Doth rule with adamantine rod the world; 
Strong in his power, unconquered in his might. 
Wise is the ruler from his throne on high; 
And justice hath her banners e'er unfurled. 
Such lordliness should justly rule such height. 

Arise, ye earthly hosts! salute this man; 
In him are joined the virtues of the eld; 
Intrepid valor in his breast e'er swelled; 
The moral virtues bound him to their plan; 
The heavens complete, and earth in him foreran. 
Salute, ye tribes of men! for him beheld 
The gods, and long hath he them paralleled. 
Behold him, and his heavenly virtues scan. 
Perfection dwells within this manly breast. 
And in each ruby drop the fire of hope 
Leaps like a flaming tongue to fire his brain, 
To hie him off" on lines of nobler quest, 
With which the gods alone are fit to cope 
Bearing celestial blessings in his train. 



82 FORESTLEAVES 



A noble mind is God's best gift to man. 

Christ loves a sweet, forgiving spirit best. 

Who dares to do the right will be the guest 

Of Him who sketched the universal plan , 

If holy writ be true. His will foreran 

The stars. His purposes are manifest 

In all His works. He did the heavens invest 

With glories. These the righteous man will scan. 

The man, whose faith is grounded deep in hope, 

Will see God face to face and do his will. 

Life's tressleboard will bear His perfect plan, 

Sketched clearly, universal in its scope; 

Fit to be honored in the master's skill; 

The hope of every righteous, godly man. 



FORESTLEAVES. 83 



THE SEA 



THE RAY. 



I have seen ihee arrayed in beauty, bay! 

Plashing the silver sands of lovely Kent; 
I have seen thee lashing angrily thy 

Strong confines, and on seeming evil bent; 
I have seen thee give the disk of dawn, — 

Dripping with the blood of heathen slain, 
To a world of darkling, black humanity; 

A world of striving, and a world of pain. 

I have seen thee calm as mountain lake. 

Sheltered beneath a wind-swept, stalwart grove, 
When thy light, curling wave caressed the sands 

With kissings upon kissings of sweet love. 
I have seen thee both austere and full mild; 

Lashing the beach in the bright, morning hours; 
Laving the foreshores with the foamy wave; 

Tenderly murmuring as evening showers. 

Thou hast been mine when I did leap in thee, 

And claim thee all for wild disporting pleasure; 
With sturdy stroke, and rugged arm, I dashed 

The wave that shoreward curled with ceaseless measure. 
And I have sailed upon thy heaving bosom, 

Beneath poetic moons, and tempest cloud. 
With timbers creaking loudly to the blasts. 

And storm blown surges trumpeting aloud. 

And I have made thee mine, when she and I 

Did wander on thy streaming, moon-lit shore. 
Murmuring words, poetic as the stars. 

That shone, and blazed, while list the billow's roar, 
As hand in hand we lingered on the strand. 

And uttered tenderest words, as lovers have, 
And wore the hours away, as lingeringly 

We called the moon to witness, and the wave. 

I met upon thy shores an old sea-man, 
And old sea-captain, winter in his hair; 



84' FORESTLEAVES. 

Upon his brow the furrows of the deep 
Had left the ravage of the sea's despair; 

Forth from his eyes the light of other days 
Blazed like the mighty orb of tropic zones; 

The very rugged life of the bold sea 

Was hid within the marrow of his bones. 

His day had been of toil upon the sea; 

His bark had plowed the deadly, wintry main; 
His snowy sails had floated idly on 

The mast beneath the tropic suns of Spain; 
He'd met the perils of the stormy deep. 

And lived to tell of countless "hairbreath scapes;" 
Of might}^ monsters met upon the way; 

And men more savage than all watery shapes. 

His cottage by the sand-hills of the sea, 

Was roofed with sea-grass cast upon the shore, 
Torn from the ocean's bed by stormy seas; 

And dried sea-moss was strewn upon the floor 
Whereon he lay against the leafy wall; 

About were strewn the instruments of strong. 
And toilsome hands, to entrap the finny tribes, 

Despoil the sea-dens of their scaly throng; — 

This represented all his toil and wealth. 

His threshold neither door, nor watch dog had. 
All things to him seemed superfluity. 

His lone sentinal was stern poverty. 
No neighbor e'en enlivened all the scene. 

Save the dark sea that floated up its wave 
Against his narrow, lonel)^ cabin door; 

Whilst the moon waxed, and waned, and lustre gave. 

The desolate margin of the sea at last 

Hath yielded up its tribute and its prize; 
The flotsam of a wierd and storni}^ sea; 

The jetsam of a coast that lonely lies; 
We lay upon the leafy, sea-tossed bed. 

Beside the murmuring wave, and slumbered not. 
The chariot of the moon had not reached 

The mid-point of her course in heaven's grot. 



FORESTLEAVES. 85 



HIS STORY. 

"The good ship John was wrecked with me near by 

A tropic isle," the lonely captain said. 
"Her keel was split in twain on coral rocks; 

The good ship lay upon the ocean's bed. 
'To boat, to boat', rang out from all the crew. 

And to the plashing wave the boat was given; 
She rode upon the breakers to the surf; 

The coast upon whose shores the ship was riven. 

"A savage band awaited our arrival 

Upon this most inhospitable coast; 
I knew our fate was sealed, our lives were doomed. 

But standing in the prow, now wave-plashed tost, 
I looked to heaven alone for my relief. 

Holding outstretched my arms and face aloft, 
I gave a cry of great distress to God, 

And hailed the unknown, savage band full oft. 

"To mv great, glad surprise, the chiefest one 

Of that wild band arrayed upon the shore, 
Replied to all my bailings, and hailed back 

A sign of mercy o'er the ocean's roar; 
And when my bailings all were ended quite. 

The savage band, without their chief, retired 
A long ways from the surf-swept, wave-plashed shore; 

The chief of us our direst needs inquired. 

"Saved from a watery, and an unknown grave. 

And death more horrible than words can tell. 
We thanked the God who rules the wind and wave, 

But yet could not our future full foretell. 
Howe'er the chief great mercy showed to us, 

Supplied our wants, and sent us on our way 
Rejoicing; on the ship that next passed there, 

We shipped for home, nor wished prolonged our stay. 

He spake so kindly, and so lovingly, 

Of the wide sea, arrayed in tragic splendor, 

One would believe he had been sea-born quite, 
Like sea-sprites, which the waves engender; 

Or mermaids, screaming on the crest of each 
Wild wave that shoreward dashes hour by hour; 



86 FORESTLEAVES 



Or fabled creatures told in ancient stoiy , 

Which saved sweet Arion by their wondrons power. 

When I had looked upon his rugged face, 

His head all hoary with the passing years, 
The light of the old sea's, pure, azure vaults 

Still shining brightly from his eyes; — to tears 
Nor stranger, for he'd had his traged}- 

As well as men of younger, better days; 
My heart uttered its mightiest words of love 

For him, the rover of the ocean's ways. 

I loved him for I knew him as he was; — 

A relic of the mystic, margined sea, 
The tragical remains of a more tragic life, 

Than ever land-reared man would subject be; 
I loved him for the dangers he had met; 

Because he'd drawn aside the fourscore years 
As lightly as the eve her scarlet clouds; 

As sure as fountain trickles out its tears. 

Thou hast been mine, O stormy, mystic sea! 

When I did stand where dancing surges roar. 
And listen to the music of thy bold. 

And boistrous waves upon the sea-beat shore; 
Where all before me leaped thy mighty ranks 

Of phalanxed armies rushing to the fray, 
As angrily, incessantly, they smote 

The insensate, rock-ribbed, stubborn shores the day 

THE FISHERS. 

I have seen thee, O beauteous, shining sea! 

Dash thy light, curling wave upon the breasts 
Of those who sought to lure the finny tribes, 

Wading breast deep amid the plashing crests 
Of thy bright surges, born of ocean's caves. 

When new moon blent its wave in western sky, 
Tilt to the north, and hollowed in the south, 

Nurse of the old, child of its piet}". 

IMAGES. 

I have seen thee, sea! dash thy beauteous wave. 
Sparkling on crest whilst morning gilds the east, 



FORESTLEAVES. 87 



And dancing- merrily when the blazing mansions 

Of ruby throated evening in the west 
Burst in transcendant glories on the eye; 

And on thy gorgeous, pendant tapestries 
Have woven images, and faces, dear 

To sacred tablets of our memories; 

Sweet images of fair ones loved and lost, 

Whence springeth all the heart-aches flesh is heir 
To, and of youth's fancies, illumined with 

The light of other days, all gorgeous, rare; 
Of her I loved for she had borne my griefs; 

Of her I loved and lost, and shed the tear; 
For whom I grieved my heart away as time went on, 

And last saw lying on her lonely bier. 

The face of him who died in infancy; 

The care, the joy, the hope, of her pure life; 
Whose earh^ days we'd watched with tend 'rest care; 

And when he'd passed the bourne of earthly strife, 
And entered portals of more joyful daj'S, 

Alas! the lasting heart-aches came that hour; 
For angels bore his soul on cherub wings, 

And left us lonely in our love-lorn bower. 

His sweet, cherubic features haunt nie still, 

And in my memory's vision linger e'er; 
I see his face within my garden flowers, 

Perennial memories e'er blooming there; 
I would not, could not, wish it otherwise, 

For with his birth, and his chei-ubic death, 
M)^ heart received a quiverful of darts. 

As sharp, and painful, as a fiery breath. 

THE BAR. 

When on the outer bar the fishermen 

Swing their baited hooks to the freshening breeze, 
And dip the flooding tide, and rolling surge, 

I've seen thee riding shoreward perfect seas; 
Have gloried in thy majesty and power; 

Luxuriated in thy sheenful wave; 
Have watched thee yield the unwilling trout the hand 

Of him who dared thv bounding billows brave. 



FOREST LEAVES. 



I love to gaze upon thy outer bar, 

Thine and the ocean's demarcation's line, 
Still held by thee as loth to yield her own 

To ocean's realm, and perfect wave, divine; 
Where passeth mighty ships with fleecy gowns; 

And monsters of the deep hunt lesser tribes; 
Where dangers lurk, and tragedies abound; 

And profit still the timorous sailor bribes. 

I love also to gaze beyond the bar. 

Where great ships, and the lesser, breast the wave; 
Where billows lengthen, deepen on the main, 

.And ride from shore to shore like troopers brave; 
Where ships have more adventurous seas to cross; 

Cargoes of more moment; sea-roads more vast; 
And ports, acknowledged marts of mighty trade; 

And climes, where mighty peoples are amassed. 

As silently as army in their tents, 

Slumbering 'neath the glinting, starrv lights. 
Thou mov'st, old ocean! purpling in thy gloom, 

Shoreward to storm the boundless, gleaming heights. 
The passage of the fateful, outer bar. 

The moving on the shallows from the deeps, 
Bring muffled rollings of the watery drums; 

Like sudden tempests on the mountain steeps. 

The gleaming tide breaks suddenly its sheen; 

Knjo^'S activity, and sound, and form; 
The tuneful patterings of a thousand feet 

Are heard, as like the approach of wild war-storm; 
The clattering hoofs of multitude dragoons; 

And sounding swarms of myriad mountain-bees; 
Like howding packs of dark, Thuringian wolves, 

Snapping with hungry fangs the freshening breeze. 

This side the outer bar among the shoals. 

Where all the mutterings of the deep are heard. 
One fain would dwell watching the dancing wave. 

With all our griefs within the past interred; 
But yet we look with strained, yearning eyes, 

Beyond the bar upon the quiet deeps, 
And there behold more richly laden barks. 

Bearing the precious freight of hopes and griefs. 

L.Ln Lt, 



FORESTLEAVES. 89 



And so our da5^s when spent amid the shoals, 

And nmnimring shallows of our sea of life; 
Filled with the siren voice of self indulgence, 

And dancing on a wave with pleasure rife; 
lyong wasted on a reckless dashing sea; 

And wrecked on rocks submerged and dangerous; 
Bear for us only dreams, and unfulfilled 

Desires, and actions most calamitous. 

HENLOPEN. 

How lovely, fair Henlopen! are thy shores. 

Whose shifting sands all silver, gleaming lie 
Upon the breast of her we're wont to call 

Our mother, compassed by the boistrous sea. 
Thee I love, fair one! laved by the bright tide, 

That flows from coral depths in endless stream, 
A might}^ river in the ocean's deeps, 

To climes where icy mountains ever gleam. 

Henlopen 's light one sees a-gleam afar. 

Shedding its beams upon the surges bright. 
Beckoning to him who views the storm afar, 

A sheltering harbor for a stormy night; 
Pointing the way of safety while the blasts 

Of mighty fog horn rend the freshening gale; 
And steadfast on the rocky water-break 

The iron light the midnight doth impale. 

Thy fair, blue waters, I have seen thee lash 

Upon the long, white shores full angrily; 
O wondrous ocean! lovely in thy strength!" 

Didst thou but know the power that lay in thee, 
No living thing, nor ship, could e'er withstand 

Thee in thy moods of livid ire and wild; 
They but the playthings of thy willful hands; 

As crumbling toys in hands of angry child. 

And thee, Henlopen! have I seen o'erstrewn 

With mighty barks shipwrecked upon thy shores, 

Lashed by the surge, and washed upon the sands; 
The sport of those, who feed upon thy stores; 

Who, bred beside the anger of the sea. 

Have learned to welcome what most others fear; 



90 FORESTLEAVES. 



To range the shores, and breast the dangerons wave, 
And seize with eager hands that they hold dear. 

And I have stood upon thy giant piers. 

That stand exalted o'er the ocean wave, 
Upholding for the use of earth the stores 

Of man's long industry and that of slave; 
Cargoes discharged from ships upon the main. 

And then transmitted to appointed end; 
Iron piers, where stern battleships may lash 

With hawsers though the surges wild contend. 

And thou dost fire the rapture of my heart, 

When I behold thee 'neath the summer skies, 
Resting serenely on thy throne of pines. 

Whilst rare, perfected beauty round thee lies; 
I've seen thy unsurpassed skies, Henlopen! 

When from their leaden deeps the light'ning shot. 
The mighty thunders pealing in their depths. 

And sought from memorj' thy beauty blot. 



THRESHING FLOORS. 

I love the threshing floors of olden time; 

The joys that cluster round the memories 
Of Ruth's fair da3'S in Palestinian fields. 

I love the pulsing, throbbing, winnying breeze; 
I love the treading ox upon those floors. 

Who round and round treads out the precious grain; 
I love the splendid horses, who, patient as 

Young lambs, the threshing engines full enchain. 

I love the sheaf-bearers' wild, tuneful song. 

Whose birth place was the hearts of Afric's men; 
I love the stackers as they tear asunder 

Their carefully trained work of former days; 
I love the agency of human hands. 

For they have instinct of the human heart 
Behind them, and they vSeldom crush the soul. 

Nor atomize the poor man's earthly part. 



FOR EST L EAVES. 91 



I love the ag-ency of human hands; 

I love the agency of human soul; 
I love the agency of human heart; 

I love the agency of man's control. 
The cruel arm of iron lacks the touch, 

The sympathetic touch of human heart; 
I love the touch of broad humanity; 

It man uplifts, and plays the noblest part. 

I love the ancient, time-worn, threshing floors; 

Their memories are the grandest of them all; 
The ceaseless whir of cruel steam precludes 

The prayers that have gone up since Adam's fall; 
The humanizing, agonizing, wild 

Petitions for the lingering joy of living, 
Are e'er precluded by the inhuman thing 

Of burning throat, and crudest contriving. 

I love the corn floors, oat floors, rye floors, all; 

I love the separations, and the care 
Bestowed upon the separations, and 

The heapings up of grain from husks blown bare; 
I love the husbandman, who comes with head 

Uncovered, bowed, and prayerful his mein; 
The illumination of his face, whilst he 

Doth view with wondering plea.sure all the scene; 

Whilst he doth truly view with adoration 

The God who placed this in his hands to feed 
Upon, to draw his life force from, to hope, 

To joy, to plead with, to live by, and heed; 
To weep over, pray over, and sing o'er. 

To give his heart's blood its wild flood and ebb, 
To find his surest comfort in the heaps, 

And pilings up of fruit of ancient glebe; 

I love him when he stands with jo3^ful heart 

Upon the brink of all the heapings up. 
And wonders, gazes, sings, and croons his heart 

Away in sweet communion at this cup. 
I love him when he acts like man gone mad. 

Filled with the rapture of his heart's great joy; 
When he, intoxicated with the sight. 

Doth unintelligable words employ. 



92 FORESTLEAVES. 

I love him when his vision penetrates 

The veil and sees the spirit through it all; 
Beholds the mighty wonder of it all; 

And hears the everlasting, blessed call. 
I love him when he strokes it with his hand; 

And feasts upon its beauty, and its glor}^; 
And pats it with the love he gives his horse, 

The horse beloved in new and ancient story. 

I love him when he tallies up the measure; 

The heaping measures of the threshing floors; 
The bushels running o'er and lightened with 

The hearty laugh resounding in the doors; 
I love him while he lingers o'er the scene; 

I love the finest animation of 
His beaming, mighty, manly countenance; 

I love the crooning cooings of a dove. 

I love the billing pigeon on the roof — 

Tree of the barn a-cooing all the day; 
The chirping chicklets, plaintive duckings, all; 

The hissing, 5'ellow goslins in their pla}^; 
I love the animation of the life. 

The vigor, vital force in natiire's jo)^; 
The flutings of the redbreast at the eve; 

The dancings and the prancings of the boy. 

I love the farm wagons returning from 

The fields, heavily laden with the sheaves; 
The creaking, clattering wheels; the clanking harness; 

The willing horse pressing the earth, leaves; 
The mighty ox bearing the burdened yoke. 

Willing to do what he could in his day; 
Earning the occasional wisp snatched from the floors, 

Nor halting, nor rebelling on the waj'. 

I love the mighty powers that rise from all 

Eternity, and destined to descend 
Into the everlasting ages of 

The hills, and ever them transcend. 
I love the vigor of the mountain airs. 

The pines, the spruce, the firmest mounts themselves; 
I love the vigor of the god-like oak, 

That kisses heaven with its head, and delves 



FORESTLEAVtS. 93 

The all resourceful earth with its firm root; 

And with its claye}^, pure, fantastic arms 
Takes hold upon the sure foundations of 

The mighty hills, and e'er defies the storms. 
I love the heavenly, spreading, vernal arms. 

That craftily support the lofty dome; 
Embracing mightily the azure deeps, 

And wondrous winds, that heavenward lashing clorab. 

JITNE DAYS. 

Ye harvest days in lovely, perfect June, 

When bright perfection broods o'er all the earth. 
And high vitality, arrayed in pure 

And spotless form, and animated worth. 
Prepares a mighty store for future years; — 

The heir and legatee of former time; 
Ye bear within your hidden texture firm, 

The hope, and safety of our race sublime. 

These are the days, when man steppeth across 

The garlanded threshold of the present. 
Into the area of the boundless future; 

The active, and the quiescent moods blent; 
The forward movement, and that of divine pause; 

The season of work, and that of wholesome rest; 
The six days of creation, and Sabbath; 

Rare days of thought, and contemplation blest; 

The season of noon blent with twilight; 

Activity blent with passivity; 
The day of separations draweth nigh; 

The days of finished separations lie 
About us with the full baskets of chaff, 

L,ight in the hands of the winnowing workers, 
And running over baskets of the wheat. 

Light in the arms of the harvest lovers; 

Well rounded days, well lighted days with hope; 

Man with the baskets of the season filled. 
Heaping up, rounding in, and flowing o'er, 

Lingers with joy, like tempest ocean stilled. 
And once receives the gift, divinel}^ rare. 

Which is for him, who sees his all in all 



94 FORESTLEAVES. 



In love and praise, in purity and hope, 
Who harkens to the voice of nature's call. 

He seems to seize the ver}' skirts of God 

Himself, so mighty is his vision fair; 
His soul leaps mortal bounds to fairer realms, 

The very nature of his God to share. 
Invisibly, yet oh! so mightily, 

He thus becomes the prophet of his race; 
A living seer with words of mighty force; 

A man adorned with every god-like grace. 



JOY BELLS. 

Joy bells are ringing o'er the fertile plains, 

The sunny lanes, and verdant wooded vales; 
Jo}^ bells are echoing from the river sides. 

The mountain tops, and cool, luxuriant dales; 
Joy bells are smothering agonies of mind. 

Of soul, heart, brain, affections, memories; 
Smothering mental discords, anguish, tears. 

Heart breakings, encouraging soul vict'ries. 

Joy bells are ringing at the birth of man; 

Pealing loudly as joyously weds the youth; 
Ringing hosannas for the first-born child; 

And swinging out the note for fullest truth. 
The morning of our days is short indeed; 

Though sweeter far when joy bells make their home 
Within the midst of our resourceful hearts. 

And leave us not to drear despair and gloom. 

The silence of the heavenly, pealing bells 

Around the period of one's early youth, 
Stealeth away unconsciously the joy, 

The imaginative, boundless force of truth. 
The joybells absent from the sturdy heart 

Of liquid youth reveal the silent night; 
Reveal the inner longings, yearnings. 

For an awakening ray of spirit light. 



FORESTLEAVES. 95 


• 

TABLE OF CONTENTS. 


Paths .^ 


Nasturtiums ...... 






5 


Perennials ...... 






5 


The Lady of the Morn .... 






6 


Nain 






8 


In Remembrance: William McKinley 






9 


A Tribute: Thomas R. Coursey 






9 


The Lady of the Moon .... 






ID 


Lucerne ....... 






1 1 


Admiral Schle}' ..... 






12 


P^mbers ....... 






12 


Alice . . . ... 






13 


Hortense ...... 






13 


Wheat Harvest in Kent .... 






14 


Strew Her Grave with Ivy 






15 


Sweet Swanendale ..... 






16 


Helen Wright 






16 


In the Shadow of the Cross 






17 


The Christian 






19 


The Censer of the West Swings Low to Earth 






19 


A Song of Jim ...... 






20 


The Ploughman ..... 






21 


Peach B.lossoms ..... 






22 


Nature's Voices ..... 






23 


Catherine Beach ..... 






24 


Tears ....... 






25 


On the Marshes of Old Kent . 






26 


Sweet Marim Spring .... 






27 


Goldenrod ...... 






28 


Humanity's Tragedy .... 






29 


The Meadow Lark 






30 


God Save the King 






31 


The Maine 






32 


The Murder of the Maples 






33 


To a Wounded Bird .... 






35 


The Task— A Mortgage . . . ■ 






36 


She Loved Me 






37 


The Independent Man . 






39 


The Ghastly Mariner .... 






40 


Strew Her Grave with -Flowers 






41 


November Days ..... 






42 


An Incident at Fair View Park 






43 


This Life's a Ma.squerade 






44 



AUG IS 1905! 



96 



FOREST LEAVES. 



The Maid of Athens 

Thanksgiving Da}^ . 

To a Tin}^ Chick Caught on the Bar 

The Heart of Nature 

Gypsy Lassies . 

John Paul Jones 

Immortal Washington 

Alaskan Legend 

You Would Have Loved Her 

The Sun's Beams 

Holl3'hocks 

Immortelles 

A Winter Day . 

Helenia . 

Ode to Robert Burns 

Jenny of Swanendale 

Silver Streams 

Tea Party 

Marigolds 

Stubble P'ields . 

Alma Mater; Lafayette 

Yule-Tide Reflections 

Songs of Nature 

To Viola . 

Sonnets . 

The Sea : 

The Bay . 

The Old Sea Captain 

His Story . 

The Fishers 

Images 

The^Bar . 

Henlopen . 
Threshing Floors 
June Davs 
Joy Bells . 



b of a Wire Fence 



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